


Silver and Gold

by saintmichael



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Angst, Classism, Genocide, M/M, Mental Illness, Smut, nervous breakdown, tiered society, viral warfare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:21:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26322571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintmichael/pseuds/saintmichael
Summary: Michael has lucked into a decent enough job for a Grey, but after a century is suffocating. When the carefree young Lord Milligan crashes into his heart, Michael begins to wonder if there can be more to his life than he thought.
Relationships: Michael/Adam Milligan
Comments: 8
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

Michael heard a clattering and an “ow!” from just outside his door, which was strange, because nobody should be down here at this time of night.

He went out into the dark corridor lit only by the lamplight now coming from his room, and helped the fallen figure up from where he had crashed into a side table.

“Are you alright?” he asked, adding “My lord,” after making out the gold tattoos on the young man’s face. Gold and another colour. Blue or purple.

“Thanks,” the kid said weakly, dusting off his robes with evident embarrassment. “Um, do you know where the bathroom is?”

The bathroom? Perhaps all the upstairs ones were in use. “Certainly,” he said. He flicked on the hallway light switch and ushered the young lord down the hall.

“It’s quiet down here,” Gold said. “I’m glad I found someone. Not a big fan of parties, huh?”

“Erm, not really,” said Michael, perplexed. He didn’t have a job that involved going to parties, and it wasn’t like the Shurleys would invite a servant to their party as a guest.

“Me neither. I mean, I like small parties. But this one’s huge. There were about twenty people in line for the toilet, that’s why I came downstairs. My mistake,” he laughed.

Michael gestured to the bathroom door. “The restroom is here, my lord,” he said.

The kid turned to face him. “Oh. Uh, thanks - oh.” He backed away from Michael in shock. Michael tilted his head at him in concern.

“Are you OK?”

“Yeah, I’m - you -” he waved his hand over his face. Ah. Lord Gold here hadn’t realised Michael was a grey because of the poor lighting. No wonder he had confused Michael with a partygoer, and was talking to him like he was a person.

“I’m a grey, my lord. Did you want me to wait out here to guide you back upstairs?”

“Uh -yes,” he said, swallowing, and entered the bathroom with one more nervous glance at Michael. Michael wondered if he had never even seen one of Michael’s kind before. A gold boy could certainly be very sheltered, especially at that age.

Michael waited outside the door. Lucky for the kid that Michael has decided to go help him, considering he was off duty tonight. Luckier for Michael though, cos if an injured Gold had been found lying outside Michael’s door, he would have gotten sent to jail, if not executed, for letting it happen. Hope the Gold wasn’t petty enough to report him for deceiving him about not being Grey, or whatever.

He heard the sounds of flushing and handwashing, and silently celebrated that he was closer to being able to go to bed. The door slowly opened and the kid peeked out at him.

“Um, I’m done,” he said.

“Very good, my lord,” said Michael, carefully refraining from adding, Do you want me to check? “This way will be quickest.”

“Sure,” said Gold, but hesitated. “I’m Adam,” he said, sticking out a hand. Michael stared at it in surprise, but shook it after the lord stared at him expectantly.

“Michael Cross,” he said.

“Nice to meet you.”

Okay... “Likewise. Should we get going, my lord?”

“Well,” said Adam. “I think I dropped something back there.” He pointed back down the hall, to Michael’s room.

Sigh. Well, they could loop around and get to another staircase. “Very well, my lord.”

They began heading back that way, and to Michael’s surprise Adam continued to strike up conversation. “So do you live here? Or work here?”

“Both,” Michael said, puzzled. “Most of the servants of this household are live-in.”

“Cool,” said Adam. “My house is pretty small. I guess we don’t really have space for that. The housekeeper and gardener have rooms, though. I never really thought about it.”

Michael scoffed. A Gold with a small house? Nonsense. He didn’t challenge the point, though.

“Uh, so what do you do here?” Adam asked, when there was no response from Michael.

“I’m Lord Shurley’s accountant,” Michael told him. They had reached the side table outside Michael’s room that had been made victim by the young lord. “This is where you fell.”

“Oh, yeah.” Adam did a cursory and wholly unconvincing search around the legs of the table. “Guess it’s not here. What room is that?” He pointed to Michael’s bedroom, door still wide open.

“Those are my personal quarters,” Michael said, and the young lord, who had already gone and stuck his head in, guiltily withdrew.

“Right. So, uhh,” Adam trailed off, fiddling with his hands a little bit.

“Should we go back upstairs?” Michael said. He wasn’t even that tired, but the Gold was trying his patience. Adam drifted a little closer to him, his face a little strange.

“You, umm,” Adam said, his voice deeper than before. “You’re really handsome, did you know that?”

Handsome? Oh. Michael absentmindedly felt his own face. He had recently needed genetic reconstruction surgery done, and his employer had offered to pay for that and cosmetic restoration surgery, so he had taken both. Perhaps the surgeon had done something more than the usual wrinkle lifting and fat removal if someone was calling him handsome.

Adam was much closer to him now. “Michael?” he whispered.

“Yes,” said Michael, taken by surprise. Adam leaned in and kissed him. Michael, bewildered, didn’t respond for several long moments, but got a hold of himself and gently pushed Adam away.

“Lord Adam,” he said politely. The Gold was young. Michael couldn’t get angry at him. “What are you doing?”

“What’s wrong?” Adam said, clearly hurt. “You think I’m ugly?”

“Of course not,” Michael said. The young lord was extremely attractive, Michael would be shocked if he had not already had extensive cosmetic surgery to perfect his features. “But a Gold and a Grey... if you decided later you didn’t like it, you could have me sent to jail for touching you.”

“I wouldn’t,” Adam said firmly. Michael was unconvinced. Adam added with reluctance, “And... I could get you sent to jail for that anyway. Without you laying a finger on me.” Michael frowned. That was certainly true. “But I wouldn’t, I wouldn’t!” he hurried to say.

It had certainly been a while. Michael’s current employers were strict with allowing their servants out of the house. And interpersonal relationships were forbidden, naturally. Michael gave him a once-over and glanced both ways down the hallway. No one was here. The servants that lived on this floor would all be at the party, Michael thought. He grasped the Gold’s hand and pulled him into his tiny bedroom.

“If you want this, we’re playing by my rules,” he told Adam sternly. Adam swallowed and nodded, and Michael patted him on the ass. “Good boy. Clothes off.”

Adam rushed to do so, while Michael calmly started removing his own clothing. His cock was already excited, though. He had spent decades in this sexless, godforsaken house. At least in the military he could fuck. Perhaps he should re-enlist.

“Done,” Adam said breathlessly. Michael looked over his naked body. A little skinnier than he would have liked, but that’s fine.

“Good. On the bed.” Adam clambered on Michael’s shitty single person bed. Hmm... perhaps Michael should have said the floor instead. Michael, also undressed, realised a different problem. No condoms, no lube. Those were contraband for a Grey in this house.

“Did you bring condoms with you?” Michael said, not expecting a positive response.

“Uhh, no,” Adam said, laughing a little. “You don’t have any?”

“They don’t really allow you to have sex here,” Michael told him. Adam’s eyes went wide.

“Am I getting you into trouble?”

“Fucking a pretty young lord who gets lost outside my room isn’t technically banned, fortunately.” Michael drums his fingers on his desk. Well, surely a Gold didn’t have any diseases. He probably got checked by a doctor every week, right?

“We’ll just stick to blowjobs,” Michael informed him. “Or just handjobs if you want. You’re clean, right?”

“Uh, I showered before the party,” Adam said, then paused. “Oh, you mean STDs. Uh, no.” He laughed.

Michael hummed and walked over to the bed. Adam stared up at him and flushed as Michael reached underneath his legs and started stroking his half hard cock. “We - uh,” he stuttered a little. “We’re going straight to it? You don’t like kissing?”

“Oh?” Michael continued his ministrations. “Well, you’ve been a very good boy so far. I suppose I’ll allow it.” He hopped on the bed and kneeled over Adam, kissing him firmly as he kept rubbing his cock. Adam moaned into his mouth - Michael was pleased he was enjoying it, but, “I’m very much out of practice,” he whispered into the Gold’s ear. “Let me know if something feels unpleasant, my lord.”

Adam nodded, still groaning. Michael loosened his grip on his cock as he mentioned, “Of course, it would be nice if I could enjoy this too, my lord.”

“Huh? Oh.” Adam’s eyes were fluttering, but surely he hadn’t missed Michael’s rock-hard cock poking into his abdomen. “Um, like this?” He started pulling at it roughly.

“I’m not a masochist, so no.” Adam let go quickly. “It’s a cock. Just pretend you’re masturbating. Or do you take ‘jerk off’ literally?”

Adam flushed and started working Michael’s dick with more care. “Your bed talk is a little m -” he gasped. “Mean.”

Michael kissed him down the side of his neck and murmured, “As I said, I’m out of practice.” Adam’s grip on his cock kept loosening as Michael pumped his own harder, and eventually Michael just moved it off.

“Did I - did,” Adam stuttered, breathing heavy. “Bad?”

Michael smiled and said, “You can come first, my lord. Then you’ll suck me off.”

“Oh,” Adam breathed, and relaxed back into the pillow as Michael finished jerking him to completion. He sweetly cried out, “Mmmichael,” as his cock spilled come over Michael’s hand. He lay there, panting, as Michael went and fetched a damp towel to clean them both up a little.

Michael kneeled back over Adam, stroking his own cock as he maneuvered it to the young lord’s mouth. But Adam went, “Wait, wait,” and tried sitting up from underneath him, to no avail.

“I took care of you, now you take care of me,” Michael reminded.

Adam nodded. “Yeah, yeah,” he said, not without enthusiasm. He tried to get up again. “Won’t it be easier if you’re the one lying down?” 

Michael raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” He shrugged and lay down. His past partners had been happy to let him do all the work, this was different.

“Um,” said Adam, awkwardly lowering his face to Michael’s erect cock. “Gonna - gonna suck your dick, gonna make you feel good…”

“You don’t sound too certain of that,” Michael remarked. 

Adam looked up at him and with sudden boldness said, “Shush,” before lowering his mouth straight onto Michael’s dick.

“Oh,” Michael said loudly, and a startled “Sorry,” when Adam glared at him. Adam pulled his mouth off with a pop and started licking around it instead. Michael groaned and dug his fingers into the sheets - really? He was already halfway there, why was he getting teased? But Adam was clearly determined to act out a porno he’d seen or something, which was  _ kind of  _ hot. 

Adam grinned at his reaction and started sucking him off properly. His technique wasn’t  _ bad  _ \- he obviously knew enough to not bite Michael’s dick off; but the suction was a little weak, and he wasn’t getting a great deal down Michael’s cock. Lack of practice, Michael presumed. He tried to thrust up to get further into Adam’s throat, but the Gold pulled off him again.

“No, no,” he said, a bit of whine coming through. “I’m doing this. You relax, ok?” He put his hands on Michael’s hips in an attempt to hold him down. He resumed sucking Michael’s cock, his eyes darting up to Michael’s every few seconds to watch his reactions. Michael wasn’t sure his face was all too expressive, so he made sure to let out grateful moans when Adam sucked harder and when he  _ finally  _ started taking more of Michael’s cock down his throat.

Michael could feel the pressure in his body reaching a long-lost crescendo and warned Adam, “I’m coming.” Adam grinned around his dick and pulled up until just the head was in his mouth, sucking and licking at it until with a shudder Michael released into his mouth. Adam sucked him dry and sat back, swallowing the come with a mildly interested look on his face. Michael closed his eyes, a pleasant buzz in his head and running down his spine.

Warm breath on his face. “Hey, you didn’t say my name. I said yours.”

“Are you sleeping? Did I put you to sleep?”

“Michael.” The damp towel was being gently dabbed in his sweatiest areas. Michael reluctantly opened his eyes. Adam was staring down at him with a worried expression. “You OK?”

“Mhmm. Sleepy,” Michael admitted. 

Adam smiled. “Oh, good. Good boy.” Michael pulled him down to face him, Adam’s head lying next to him.

“What did you call me?”

“Uh. Good boy? You kept calling me that so…” Michael grabbed Adam’s hand and moved it to Michael’s left cheek, just next to his ear.

“You feel these? You see these?”

“Yeah…” Adam said curiously.

“You know what they are?”

“They’re like, century markers, right?”

“ _ Half _ -century,” Michael corrected. “I’m not 800 fucking years old.”

“Sure… just 400.” 

“Exactly. And how many do you have?” He tapped Adam’s cheek.

“Zero…”

“Zero. And I think someone who is under 100 can be called a  _ boy _ , and someone who is over 400  _ cannot. _ Are we clear?”

Adam was grinning again. “We’ll have to agree to disagree, cause you are the goodest boy I’ve ever met.” Michael scoffed, and the Gold’s grin only grew wider. He pinched Adam’s cheek to scold him, and traced his fingers over the Purple tattoo elegantly etched onto it. Flowering lilac and catmint covered his face, and the Gold smattering of stars over it, almost like shiny freckles, helped to enhance it.

“This is pretty,” Michael murmured, his heart still softened by pleasure. “It’s a bit unusual to have Gold and Purple together though, isn’t it? Shouldn’t it just be Gold?”

“It depends,” Adam said, going quiet all of a sudden.

“Hmm… on what?” Michael traced his own tattoo, feeling a little jealous. His Grey wings were nowhere near as pretty.

Adam didn’t answer, his face blank. And then he said, “Well, maybe I’ll tell you on our first date. If you’re good.”

He hopped out of bed. Michael frowned at the sudden absence and sat up. “First date?”

“Yeah. Saturday, we’ll have dinner and a movie. Ward 35 of the Lilac district has a nice theatre. Meet you at seven?”

Michael struggled to turn his brain back on. “I don’t think that’s going to work. My contract says I can only be out of the house until nine on weekends. And I can’t go to Lilac district. I’m Grey,” he reminded him.

“I can get you access,” said Adam, but he hesitated. “You have a curfew? Really?”

Michael gave him an unimpressed look. Adam was allowed to act either in command or as a sheltered kid. Not both.

“Okay, okay. Lunch and a movie. Twelve, Ward 35. You’ll have access on your card,” he said, before Michael could protest. “C’mon, it’ll be fun.”

Michael hadn’t gone out in a while. He didn’t have any friends, and his contract made it difficult to make new ones. Adam wasn’t proposing a friendship, though.

“Fine. But if I get police called on me when people see me in a Purple district, that’s the end of the date,” he warned Adam.

Adam frowned. “That won’t happen. Okay, great. Uh.” He checked his watch, looking guilty. “I should probably get back to the party… I’ve been down here a while…”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you have. Come on.” He grabbed Adam’s clothes off the floor and tossed them at him.

Before they left, Michael cracked his door open to check the coast was still clear. He could see the light on under Bartholomew’s door a little bit down the hallway, but it was the only one. He closed the door and warned Adam, “Be absolutely silent. I’ll probably get in big trouble for this if anyone sees you leaving.”

Adam nodded. He tugged on Michael’s shirt and pulled him in for a small kiss. “Tonight was… Thanks. I’m glad I got lost.”

“I’m not unhappy about it,” Michael said calmly. Adam laughed a little, before drawing a finger to his lips and nodding to the door. 

When they reached the stairwell, Adam kissed him again.

“My lord,” Michael muttered warningly.

Adam patted him on the head. “You haven’t been kissing me enough. I’m trying to get you in the habit.”

“Not at work. Please,” Michael told him. “Good night.”

“You too. Sweet dreams,” Adam said, before disappearing up the stairwell.

Michael stared at the stairs for a while longer after that, a quiet yearning he hadn’t felt in centuries tearing at his heart. 


	2. Chapter 2

Michael didn’t have a lot of casual clothes. Most of his wardrobe were cheap accountant suits. Not really movie-going stuff. But he managed to pull out a dusty pair of jeans and a worn out jacket from the back of his closet, and hoped they’d be good enough. He wanted his  _ date  _ to be attracted to him, after all. He smiled at his reflection in the mirror as he combed his hair.

Other staff gave him odd looks as he passed through the house, but Michael paid them no mind. He was aware that by this point he had a reputation as a recluse.

“Michael,” a soft voice called out to him from his side as he walked through the front hall. Michael immediately wheeled around and stiffly stood to attention.

“Good morning, Lord Shurley,” Michael said politely. His boss wagged a finger at him. “Mr Shurley,” Michael corrected. The lordship had insisted on his staff being a bit more casual with him for the last couple of years, wanting to improve his image among the working-class. Michael thought a better way to do that would be to stop tearing down Grey residential districts in order to build racetracks and golf courses, but he wasn’t a politician. 

Lord Shurley smiled at him. “Going out? That’s rare,” he remarked. 

“Yes, sir,” said Michael, checking his watch. He hadn’t scheduled his trip with an interruption in mind. “It’s Saturday,” he reminded his boss.

“So it is. Well, Lucy and I were just about to head out for lunch ourselves, if you wanted to join us.” The lordship’s eldest daughter raised her eyebrows at Michael, her mouth turned up in condescending amusement.

“I already have plans. I’m meeting someone,” Michael said. He checked his watch again. He could still make it if he walked quickly to the lift. “Enjoy your lunch, my lord.” He broke away and power walked to the exit. Lord Shurley called after him, but Michael could never forgive himself if he was late to an appointment.

Lord Adam had come through and the lift gave an approving tone when Michael told it to take him to the ward in Lilac district. It was a fair distance from Cloud district, a good eight minutes ride in the lift. From what Michael could see from the lift, it was a reasonably middle-class district. Most of the wards were residential, with a few commercial ones here and there. Lots of parks and nature reserves too. Quite a pretty district.

Adam was waiting for him at the movie theatre in ward 35. He was also wearing a hoodie and jeans, but of much nicer quality and probably purchased this decade.

“Hey,” Adam said, and kissed him on the lips. “Kisses, remember?”

“Yes, I remember how needy you are.” Adam grinned at him.

“You have a good week?”

“Just work,” Michael told him. They went inside the theatre to see what was showing.

“Anything interesting happen?” Adam pressed.

Michael thought about it. “The logged expenditures for Cacorp didn’t reconcile with their total figures for the month, so I had to order an audit.”

“So… that’s a no, then.” Adam was peering up at the screen scrolling through the current titles. “You got any preferences?”

“No.”

“Cool.” Adam pulled out his phone and entered the LAN. “Okay, two tickets to My Lonely Asteroid.”

Michael had no idea what that was.

Adam took them to a nearby restaurant. “Betty’s House,” it said in flashing red letters, with a little cartoon lady posing next to them.

“Betty Boop?” Michael said, puzzled.

“Huh? What?” said Adam, fruitlessly trying to pull a very still Michael inside.

Michael pointed at the sign. “It’s Betty Boop, isn’t it? She was in some old Earth films.”

“Really, how interesting,” Adam said, yanking his arm. “You can tell me about it inside. C’mon, we only got 40 minutes before the movie starts.”

The inside of the restaurant was not Betty Boop themed. Michael guessed that the sign designers had searched X-NET for ‘cartoon Betty’ and picked something from the tenth page of results. Who would remember a twentieth century cartoon character, after all?

“Soooo,” Adam said, after they’d ordered. “You need a new jacket.”

Michael looked down. It was certainly more holey than he would like. It just hadn’t been a concern until now.

“We’ll go shopping after the movie,” Adam decided. “I’ll buy you some new duds. Be your sugar daddy.”

“I don’t need a sugar daddy. I am gainfully employed,” Michael reminded him. Adam pouted. “I don’t mind shopping for new duds, though.”

“Great!” The waiter came and laid down their sandwiches in front of them.

“That was quick,” Michael said.

“Oh,” Adam waved a hand, leaning over his plate in anticipation. “It’s just a fast food place. I hope you weren’t expecting anything fancy.”

“This is fine.” Michael watched as Adam took a huge bite out of the ‘Mom’s sandwich’ he’d ordered. Michael had ordered the same thing, the thousand-item menu too difficult for him to navigate. He took a bite out of his own, and politely put it down again. It was distinguished in its greasiness, you could say.

“So, uh,” Adam said, wiping his mouth. “Aren’t you going to ask me about  _ my  _ week?”

Michael felt a bit guilty. He wasn’t particularly skilled at initiating conversation and Adam was working so hard to. “I don’t think you’ve even told me what it is you do for a living. Why don’t you tell me about that, first.”

“Oh - sure,” Adam went a bit wide-eyed. “I’m a student at UAA. That’s the only thing I do for a living, I guess.”

A student. Well, Michael could have guessed that from his age. “What are you studying?”

“I’m double majoring in human biology and quantum engineering.”

“Oh? That’s an odd combination.”

Adam flushed. “Well I want to be a doctor. But I want to work on a ship as well. My half-brother told me it’d be easier to get on as an engineer than as a doctor, so I thought I’d, um-”

“Cover your bases?” Michael said drily. “I don’t know if it works like that. And where did your brother get his information from?”

“He’s military,” Adam said. “Is it not right?”

“You want to join a military ship?” Michael asked, incredulous. “In that case it is true, but you realise you’d have to enlist as a soldier as well? Why doesn’t a rich boy like you just buy a ship and take a holiday?”

“I’m not rich,” Adam protested. “And I want to work on a ship, not just be on one.”

“So join a mining ship or something. You’ll be a lot happier, I promise you.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re not in the fucking Space Force? You get homesick for Aura Aurellius, you can duck out and go home whenever you want. And  _ not  _ be arrested for desertion.” Michael paused. “Although, I guess they’d probably be lenient on you anyway.”

Adam made a face. “I won’t get homesick. I’ve always wanted to live in space.”

“There’s living in space, and there’s being stuck in a tiny corner of the cosmos on year four of your ship’s six year mission, mapping an area of nothing, and you’re on a ship with 2000 other miserable assholes.” Michael scowled at the memory.

“You were in the Space Force?” Adam asked in surprise. “I didn’t… but you’re an accountant?”

Michael tsked. “Yeah, I served for over two hundred years. So trust me on this.” 

“As an accountant?”

“No. And that would be a planetside job. I worked as ship security.”

“Oh.” Adam was sounding more confused by the second. “But then how did you get - I mean-” He waves his hands around. “That seems like a weird career change.”

Hmm. Well, it was not something Michael spoke of often. But it wasn’t a secret, either. “After I was discharged from the Space Force, I was unemployed and homeless for several months. Lord Shurley came and found me. He said he’d known my father and offered me this accounting job. Full training included. I took it.” Michael shrugged. “In other words, I was very, very,  _ very  _ lucky.”

Adam listened intently, his eyes soft and sad. “I guess you were. Did he say how he knew your dad?”

“Employed him, I assume. I didn’t ask.”

“Wow.” Adam paused. “Why were you discharged? Or - or is it rude to ask.”

Michael hummed. “I’m not sure, actually.”

“What?” Adam exclaimed, boggled. “How can you not know? They have to tell you right?” 

“Ah. Well, the official reason was my mental health. You don’t serve for over two centuries without developing PTSD.” Michael frowned. “Unless you went straight from military academy to a desk and stayed there, of course.”

“But you don’t think it’s the real reason?”

“Like I said, everyone with my experience has it. So it’s a pretty obvious way to get rid of me. Throw a pysch in the room with me, he sees ten different ways I’m disturbed in seconds. But I don’t know who wanted to get rid of me in the first place. I don’t recall pissing anyone off, just one day they ordered me to check in with psych out of the blue.” Adam was staring at him wordlessly. “Ah. Do you not want to date me anymore? I promise I’m not crazy.”

“No, I- sorry, it’s just a lot to take in.” Adam looked down. “You don’t have to tell me this stuff if you don’t want to.”

Michael cocked his head. “If I didn’t want to then I wouldn’t have.”

“Mmm,” Adam said. “That’s good.” But he seemed absent.

“What’s wrong?”

“Uh, maybe the movie was a bad choice…” Adam looked down at his phone, pulling the page with the tickets back out.

“I’m sure I can stomach it.”

It turned out  _ My Lonely Asteroid  _ was about a space sailor who got separated from his ship and was stuck out in the middle of nowhere for the rest of his life, going crazy until he died. The writing was about as original as the title: not at all. 

The theatre was pretty fancy though; Michael and Adam’s little pod orbiting the 3D screen had a luxury couch and even a minifridge. Michael wondered if anyone actually came to these things to  _ not  _ make out; Adam was crawling on him within three minutes of the movie starting.

“This kinda sucks huh,” Adam breathed, licking behind his ear. Michael moaned and tried to get him back, but he ducked out of the way, grinning impishly. “He’s giving a monologue to a cactus? Really? It’s so dumb.”

“Adam, come back,” Michael crooned. “I miss your tongue in my mouth.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, but his eyes were gentle as he bore down on Michael. “I’m not going anywhere.”

They went shopping in a different ward. “Everything in 35 is overpriced,” Adam informed Michael. “I just like that theatre.”

“So, you live in Lilac?” Michael asked, touching the purple flowers blooming across Adam’s face. A bit of a foregone conclusion, but Michael liked to be sure about things.

“Yeah,” Adam said, blushing a little. “Usually.”

He didn’t elaborate. Michael was starting to notice that Adam was happy to chatter on so long as he wasn’t talking about himself. It was strange to Michael. Weren’t people usually the other way around?

People nearby were giving them disgusted looks. Michael had been receiving looks of disdain ever since he stepped into Lilac district, but now they seemed offended. They assumed he was Adam’s servant but that didn’t reconcile with him stroking the Gold’s face, he supposed.

“Sorry,” he said offhandedly to Adam.

“Huh?”

“It’s not a good look for you, to be seen with me,” Michael explained, slowly. “I should be more discreet.”

“No, it’s fine,” Adam said. “People don’t think very highly of me anyway.”

Now  _ that  _ didn’t make sense. “What? Why?”

Adam pointed at the tattoos on his face. “This, I guess. Cause it’s my fault who I was born to.”

“To a Gold and a Purple?” Michael asked. Adam scratched his head and didn’t respond. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t pry,” Michael said kindly.

“...We’re here,” Adam said, quietly, as they reached the entrance of the mall. “Come on, let’s get you a jacket that isn’t a thousand years old.”

“Surely if I had such a jacket, it would be very valuable,” Michael protested. Adam chuckled, but he still sounded a little tender.

He perked right back up when Michael let him dress him up in the boutique. “You look so great in magenta, you know?” he gushed, holding Michael in a pose like a doll. “Or - or-” he rifled through the stack of shirts they had collected. “Put the green one on again, c’mon.” When Michael didn’t do so quickly enough, Adam tried wresting it off his body himself. Michael laughed.

“Calm down. I’ll put it on.” He pulled it over his head and when he popped out Adam was already holding out a different one.

“I don’t have that much room in my closet,” he told him, taking it anyway. “You saw how big my room is.”

“But you’re so handsome, it’s not fair,” Adam said, holding him from behind. “You should quit your accountant job and become a model. And buy a house with a big wardrobe.” Michael looked at his face in the mirror. It had certainly been sculpted well enough over his various surgeries that you couldn’t call him  _ ugly _ . But next to Adam, he clearly didn’t compare.

“I’m not quitting my job to become a model. And we’re limiting today’s purchases to three tops and three bottoms.”

“Six tops,” Adam argued. “You need jackets and shirts.”

“Three shirts and a jacket. Adam, I really don’t get out that much.”

“Okay,” Adam said, already darting out of the dressing room. “I think I saw a good one, I’ll be back!”

Michael straightened the shirt. It  _ was  _ a nice shade of green.

They went and got frozen yoghurt after that. And then Adam wanted to show him a thrift store he frequented, and then he took him to his local library, and then they were wandering a nature park, hands clasped together. 

“Let’s go get dinner,” Adam said excitedly. “I know a nice place. Not fast food,” he added.

Michael glances at his watch. Seven. “Adam, I have to be home by nine,” he reminded him.

“Yeah, I know. I don’t want to get you in trouble. We’ll be done way before nine, I promise.”

Michael was dubious. “Well, I don’t know how we’ll fit it in, but if you’re sure…”

Adam stopped and turned Michael to face him. “What? Do you take two hours to eat dinner?”

Michael frowned. “Dinner, no. But we are having sex at some point as well, aren’t we?”

Adam froze. “Uh,” he said.

“Are we not having sex today?” Michael asked. He didn’t realise they weren’t on the same page. Wasn’t this why they were on a date? 

“We - uh - I mean we can, uh,” Adam looked taken aback. “Is that the only reason you came out with me?”

“No. I came out with you because I like you. I thought we would have sex for the same reason.”

“Okay. Um. I like you too,” Adam reassured him slowly, “But we don’t have to have sex on every date, right? I wasn’t really planning on it.” He bit his lip. “Uh, I guess we can fool around… but you’re right, we probably can’t do that and dinner…”

“No, that’s fine,” said Michael. “I misunderstood your intentions. I apologise.”

Adam still looked uncertain, so Michael leaned in and kissed him. “Let’s get dinner, okay?”

Adam smiled.

**

It was pretty close to nine when Michael finally returned to the Shurley mansion. The gate guard looked a little surprised to see him, but didn’t say anything to him.

Michael had only just slipped into his room and started putting away his clothes when there was a knock on his door. He opened it to find his boss smiling at him.

“Mr Shurley?” Michael was puzzled. “Is there a problem?”

“Just came to check on you. Did you enjoy your day out?”

“Yes, thank you.” 

“That’s good. Do you have plans for tomorrow, as well?”

Michael shook his head.

“Excellent. Well, Lucy and I are going out for lunch again. Do join us this time, won’t you?”

“Yes sir.” The lordship’s unchanging smile was somewhat unnerving.

“Good. We’ll be in the hall at eleven thirty tomorrow morning.” Lord Shurley patted him on the chest and departed.

Michael stared after him. Was he in trouble for some reason? He didn’t understand.


	3. Chapter 3

The cafe was bright and loud. People here in Cloud district didn’t stare at Michael, cause they knew he belonged to Lord Shurley, but Michael still would have felt more comfortable with Adam. His boss was acting extremely friendly, which must mean there was something extremely wrong.

“Be careful,” Lady Shurley warned him when her father was not in earshot. “He’s had a bee in his bonnet ever since yesterday.”

When they had ordered, Lord Shurley turned to him and said, beaming, “So, Michael. Why don’t you tell us where you went yesterday?”

“I went out, with a friend,” Michael said. Didn’t he already tell him this? 

“A friend? What friend?”

Michael was uncomfortable with even an ordinary amount of attention on him, but this was too much. “Sir, I’d rather not discuss my personal life with you, if that’s alright.”

“Don’t call me sir,” his boss said, tapping the table a little too hard. “We’re friends, aren’t we, Michael? I’ve looked after you all these years, haven’t I?”

“Yes, Mr Shurley,” Michael said dutifully. “I am very grateful. Thank you.” The lord stared at him expectantly. Michael tilted his head.

“...Well,” said the lord, eventually. “I’m sure I can count on you to tell me if you’re having problems. I’d rather make things better for you here than to have you look elsewhere.”

“I have no problems, sir,” Michael said, thoroughly confused by this conversation. Lord Shurley was searching his face for a answer of which Michael didn’t know the question.

“How about a raise?” the lord said. “I’m sure we’re not paying you enough. We’ll add another $10 million to your salary, effective immediately.”

“Thank you, sir,” Michael said, nervously. His pay was already generous, and was pretty much entirely disposable income due to the lifestyle benefits his contract provided. It just sat in a bank account, gathering dust. He couldn’t even invest it. Greys were not permitted on the stock market. He would rather even be paid less, so the lord would be less inclined to get rid of him. But it would look strange to argue a pay raise.

Lord Shurley backed off him after that, turning to talk to his daughter about politics and parties and other things Michael didn’t understand. He sat there eating his lunch quietly, feeling very out of place. He was relieved when he received an X-message from Adam.

_ Hey! Did you wanna come over today? Since we had to cut things short last night ;) _

_ Hello Adam,  _ Michael typed.  _ I would be happy to come see you. Where would you like to meet? _

_ You can come to my house! Ward 81. I’ll meet you at the lift. See you in ten? _

Oh. _I am having lunch with my boss right now,_ _but I will let you know when I am coming over._

_ Ok! Eat quickly, I can’t wait!  _ Michael smiled at his phone. What an odd thing to say.

They had taken a car to the restaurant, located in another Cloud district ward. After lunch, Michael walked the Lord and Lady back to their car. “Thank you for lunch, my lord,” he said, and turned to leave.

“Hmm? Michael? Get in the car. We’re going home,” Lord Shurley told him.

“Yes,” said Michael. “I have an appointment in another district. So I think it will be quicker if I take the lift from here.”

“Another district?” The lord was frowning now. “Lilac district?”

“How did you know?” Michael racked his brains, trying to remember if he’d mentioned it, but he was certain he hadn’t. 

“You went there yesterday, didn’t you? I got a bit worried and tracked your location.”

“Oh,” said Michael. Lord Shurley leaned in very close.

“Michael,” he murmured. “If you are job hunting behind my back, I’ll have to have you arrested for breach of contract. You do understand that, I hope?”

“Yes,” Michael said. 

“Good. Now let’s get in and go home.” Lord Shurley got in the car and looked out to Michael.

“I am meeting someone in Lilac district,” Michael reminded him. “Thank you for lunch today, my lord. Please excuse me.” He helpfully closed the car door and briskly headed off to the nearest lift.

Ward 81, Lilac district was gorgeously verdant. The marble paths were covered in the wind-blown petals of the blooming flowers from all over the ward. Michael stood in front of the lift, admiring it, and Adam ran up to him.

“Hey!” he said, and kissed Michael. Michael pulled a few petals out of the kid’s hair. Adam took a step back and looked him over, grimacing. “What’s with the suit? Didn’t we buy you some actual good clothes yesterday?”

“Yes, we did. But I just came from lunch with my boss. I wrote it in my message,” Michael pointed out. Adam pouted.

“You could have changed. I wasn’t that impatient.”

Michael said, “I was. I enjoy spending time with you.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “Knock it off, you’re going to make me blush. Come on, come see my house.” He grabbed Michael’s hand and started pulling him down the street.

Adam’s house was in a corner of the ward, situated behind a large nature park. The air here smelled so fresh, Michael thought. Cloud district was so artificial compared to this place.

“So uhh,” Adam said, pausing in front of the house. “What do you think?”

Adam’s house wasn’t half the size of the Shurley mansion, but it wasn’t exactly small, either. White bricks, three stories tall, with a big garden out the front, and probably out the back, as well. The garden was probably bigger and fancier than the house. Michael could see statues and fountains and bridges and arches, whereas the house had a measles three steps going up to the door.

“It’s very pretty,” he told Adam. Adam beamed.

They were greeted inside by a servant that looked biologically pretty old, but Michael could only see two half-centuries by his ear. “Mr Adam, welcome back,” he said, smiling toothily. “And you must be Mr Michael.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mr, err…?”

“Joshua.”

“Charmed,” said Michael.

“Michael, my room’s upstairs, come on,” Adam said. “Joshua, Mom’s still at work, right?”

“Yes, sir,” said the servant, looking between the two of them. “Should I tell the others you are not to be disturbed?”

Adam ducked his head. “Tell them whatever you want.” They went upstairs.

“Adam, I’m not sure this is going to work out,” Michael said, looking around the Gold’s room with disdain.

“Huh? Why?” Adam asked, panic creeping up on his face.

“This room is very messy. I suspect we may not be compatible.”

“No, it’s not messy, I just cleaned it up,” Adam argued. That couldn’t possibly be true. The ground was practically covered in junk. Michael picked a box off the ground and looked at it.

“Does this need to be on the floor?” he asked patiently. Adam grabbed it off him and put it back. 

“Yes, it’s controlling the room’s humidity. There’s no mess in here, ok? This is a normal amount of stuff.”

Michael frowned, but he didn’t argue the point. Perhaps he was too poor to understand a ‘normal amount of stuff’.

“So, uh,” Adam hopped on the bed, propping himself on the pillows. “Want to come here?” Michael came and sat next to him. It was a much larger, more luxurious bed than his own. It was almost a little  _ too  _ soft, he thought.

“Feel free to make yourself comfortable,” Adam said, patting the bed. Michael was already comfortable. “Um, don’t you want to lie down?”

Michael observed Adam’s awkward half-lying down pose on the bed and an amused smile slowly crossed his face. “My lord, are you trying to seduce me?”

“Do - do you not want to do it anymore?” Adam sounded genuinely worried. Michael didn’t want that.

“I’m just surprised you called me here for sex, my lord,” Michael murmured, leaning down and brushing his lips over Adam’s ears. “I’m happy to let you make a whore of me.”

Adam laughed, relieved. “Okay, well, good. Lie down,” he directed with more confidence. Michael obliged, and Adam ran a finger over his chest.

“We need to lose this suit jacket,” he said. “It’s not doing it for me.” Michael obediently removed it, and started unbuttoning his dress shirt, but Adam stopped him.

“Let’s not get sloppy,” he advised. Michael tsked, considering the state of the room. Adam activated his bedside drawers and dug around in them.

“I, uh, got some stuff ready,” he said. Michael wondered if he should be concerned, but the Gold just dumped a packet of lube on his chest. “I thought you could fuck me this time. Like…” He started unbuttoning his pants, with great difficulty. “Fuck, sorry, just a second.”

“No need to rush. You have me captive.”

Adam smiled distractedly and finally managed to get his pants off. His shirt was removed with much less hassle; then he crawled on top of Michael in his underwear.

“So umm,” he said. “I really enjoyed our date yesterday.”

“I’m glad,” said Michael. Adam seemed to enjoy this position, he noted. It was cute. He was enjoying the sensation of Adam’s naked skin on his clothes.

“Do you, uh, mind going on more dates? Or do you just want to do stuff like this?”

Michael had given him the wrong impression last night, he realised. “To be honest, I thought you were inviting me on another date today,” he admitted. “Of course I want to date you.”

“Oh,” Adam said. “So - do you not want to do it now? I don’t wanna force you.” 

Michael grabbed Adam’s hand and put it on the crotch of his pants, where he could clearly feel his half-hard cock. “There is no possible time I wouldn’t want to fuck you,” he said with forced calm. “Please stop teasing me.” 

“I can tease you if I want,” Adam said, jerking his hand away. “My house, my rules.” Michael idly wondered if the boy realised that, had he an ugly Grey tattoo on his face rather than his pretty one, Michael would have him pinned on the floor with his cock shoved in his ass already. He felt his dick trying to perk up at the thought. He’d gag him, too. Put his arms in a binder… mmm… 

He unbuttoned his pants and pulled his cock out to stroke it. “Hey,” Adam protested. “I - I was gonna do that.”

“Mmm, were you?” Michael wondered. “You were taking an awful long time, boy. If you want to ride me, you can wet yourself up first.” He nodded at the lube lying on his chest.

“Yeah,” Adam said. “I, um, used some of it before you got here. So I think I’m ready?”

“ _ Oh _ ?” Michael breathed, jerking faster. “You prepped yourself, my lord? Did you use a toy?”

“A toy?” Adam said uncertainly. “Um, just my fingers.” Disappointing. Perhaps Michael would use some of his $10 million raise to buy his new boyfriend some dildos.

“Show me your hard work,” Michael encouraged him. Adam  _ shyly  _ slipped his underwear down, his pretty cock springing out. Michael squirted lube on his fingers and tested his hole out. It was certainly drenched, but still felt pretty tight. Michael stretched him out a bit more with two fingers.

“This your first time, my lord?” Michael checked. Adam nodded, mouth gaping as Michael spread his fingers inside him. “This position isn’t ideal for a first-timer,” Michael informed him. “It would be best for me to take you from behind.” He may have been a  _ little  _ biased, but Adam didn’t need to know that.

“No, no, like this,” Adam argued. “I’ll be careful. I’ve watched vids.”

“Uh-huh,” said Michael, refraining from rolling his eyes. “You’re very tight, baby. You’re gonna have to go nice and slow.” 

“Yeah,” Adam said. Michael slipped a third finger in, pushing them in deeper. “I - uhh - I think I’m ready to go now.”

“I will decide when you’re ready to go,” Michael said, voice sounding far more calm then it actually was.

“But I’m in charge,” Adam gasped as Michael found his prostate. “R - I - remember?”

Michael chuckled, pressing on it again and again, watching the boy squirm. “Baby, just because I let you ride on top doesn’t mean you’re the boss.” Four. He pumped them in and out. With his other hand, he pulled his pants down further. He didn’t want come on them.

“Okay, angel,” he said. “You can ride me, slowly. If it hurts, you’re going on the bed.”

“Yeah,” Adam said heavily. “Um-” He tried to position himself over Michael’s cock and lower himself onto it. Michael grabbed his cock in one hand and guided Adam’s ass with the other.

“Good boy,” Michael murmured. “Slowly.” Adam’s eyes blew up wide as he started to sink onto Michael’s cock.

“Oh,” he groaned, trying to adjust himself. Michael continued to guide him down, resisting the urge to just pull him straight down into his cock. This would be a  _ very  _ pricey toy to break.

“It’s - it’s big,” Adam mumbled, looking down at Michael’s cock.  _ I know. That’s why we stretched you out,  _ Michael politely didn’t say.

“If you can’t get further than the tip, I’ll take you from behind,” Michael suggested. Unfortunately Adam seemed to take that as a challenge. Locking eyes with Michael, he squeezed himself down on Michael’s cock with strangled gasps and grunts.

“Mmmph… that’s - better,” Michael managed to say. Adam’s tight ass was like a vice around his cock. He gave the kid some time to adjust, but he  _ needed  _ to  _ come _ . “Move,” he ordered hoarsely. Adam nodded and barely shifted. An annoyed Michael grabbed him by his sweaty hips and lifted him off his eager cock before jerking back up into him.

Adam let out a startled cry. “Hurts?” Michael grunted roughly. Adam shook his head no. “Good,” Michael said, and continued fucking up into the boy. Adam squirmed a bit, but Michael had a firm grasp on his hips.

“Mi - Mi - Michael,” Adam moaned. “I’ll - I’ll ride you.” But Michael’s patience was gone. He’d always had a short fuse when it came to sex.

Adam’s cock was hard and leaking, but Michael wanted to be absolutely sure he was fucking Adam at the right angle. He pulled out and pushed him to the bed, manhandling him until he was face down, legs spread.

“Mmmichael, you said,” Adam protested. “It’s not hurting.”

“This is our first time, you deserve to be fucked properly,” Michael whispered, lining his cock up properly with Adam’s hole. “You can play cowboy another time.”

Michael would have preferred him on his hands and knees, but Adam was clearly overwhelmed, so he just held the boy’s hips up himself and started slamming into him at a more controlled angle. He adjusted until he was hitting the sweet spot, which he calculated based on the volume of Adam’s groans. “This is good, isn’t it, my lord?” he murmured, leaning over Adam and kissing his ear. Adam’s asshole very pleasantly clenched firmly around his cock in response. Michael thrust harder and harder, feeling his orgasm quickly approaching.

“Michael,” Adam moaned into the sheets. “C-coming-” His hole tightened around Michael’s cock as he released onto the bed. Michael came quickly after that, the sight of Adam coming on his cock too much to handle. His come flooded into the boy’s asshole, and Michael sagged down on top of Adam, fully spent.

“Good boy,” he mumbled, brushing his fingers through Adam’s sweat-soaked hair. “Such a good boy for me.”

“Yeah,” Adam muttered. Michael kissed his neck, and wrapped his arms around his chest. 

“Gonna buy you a dildo, so my baby angel can practice riding,” Michael promised. “So hot seeing you on top, baby. So sexy.”

“Was it hot?”

“Yeah, turned me on real bad. Had to fuck you fast, angel.” Adam smiled into the bed.

Michael pulled out of him, and his come leaked out as well, to his disappointment. He made a mental note to put plugs on the shopping list as well. It would be so sexy to have Adam walking around with his come stuffed in him.

He put a pillow underneath Adam’s head and got off the bed. An obstinate hand reached out and grabbed his now drenched shirt. “Just getting a towel, baby,” he promised. He found Adam’s en-suite and grabbed one, quickly returning to the bed to mop up Adam and himself. Adam pulled him down and they cuddled for a while.

Michael hung up his gross shirt to dry and hung out in Adam’s room in the meantime. “Why did I let you tell me to keep wearing this?” he asked Adam.

“Cause it’s sexy,” Adam said, in a tone that brooked no disagreements. “Just bring a second shirt next time.” Michael sighed. It had been such a long time since he’d had a boyfriend, and he’d been saddled with this bossy one.

They decided to go shopping together again. Michael wanted to buy toys for Adam, and it would be easiest if he was there to veto ones he didn’t like. Adam didn’t know where any sex shops were in the district, and Michael only knew ones in Grey districts, so they looked up potential addresses on AWEB. Michael hadn’t used this network before; he couldn’t access it on his phone, so he supposed it was limited to the elites. Adam was baffled.

“How can you not have access to AWEB?” he exclaimed. “Everyone uses AWEB.”

“Everyone  _ you  _ know, yes,” Michael said. Adam sulked lightheartedly.

When they came downstairs, there was a blonde Purple in the drawing room, looking through some files. Adam perked right up. “Mom, hey!” he said, dashing over to her, beckoning Michael to follow. She looked up and smiled at Adam, her face visibly clouding over when she glanced at Michael.

“Who is this?” she asked coldly. Michael immediately felt panic set in. Clearly, Lady Milligan wasn’t as colourblind as her son.

“It’s Michael. My boyfriend, remember?” Adam was beaming, clearly not having noticed the drop in temperature.

Lady Milligan stared at him. “Please leave my house or I will have the police escort you out.”

“What? Mom?” Adam said, bewildered.

“Yes, my lady. At once.” Michael was stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. What was he doing, strolling into a Purple house and fucking a Purple boy?

He headed off, annoyed, scared. He didn’t want to go to jail again. Adam was running after him, tugging on his arm but Michael ignored him and went out the front door. He thought with his dick and now a Purple was probably going to send him to jail for taking advantage of her clearly naive son. Oh god. What if Adam was actually mentally disturbed?

“Hey, hey.” Adam had leapt in front of him to block him exiting the front gate. “Michael, can you hear me?”

Michael stared down at him. “Your mother told me to leave.”

“Yeah, she-” Adam scratched his head. “I dunno what that was about, sorry. I’ve never seen her that mad before.”

“She is mad because I’m dating you,” Michael said. 

“But that doesn’t make any sense. I told her all about you.”

“Did you mention that I’m Grey?”

“Uh, I don’t think so, but Mom doesn’t care about that sort of thing anyway.” He looked back at the house, worried.

“She clearly does,” Michael said, with a great deal of frustration. “Adam, I have to go.”

“But we were gonna go shopping.”

Michael sighed. “Adam, I want to go shopping with you,” he said slowly, “but I  _ don’t  _ want to get arrested more. I don’t think we can see each other.”

Adam started tearing up. “No, we can.” He smiled. “Look, just, wait here and I’ll go talk to Mom, okay? I’m not gonna let you get arrested or anything dumb like that when you haven’t even done anything. Wait here and I’ll come back and we can go shopping, okay?” He dashed back to the house. 

_ Stupid, stupid, stupid.  _ Michael left.


	4. Chapter 4

Michael tried to move on. He got his dick wet a couple times, he went to a fancy new district, overall, a success. Adam started blowing up his phone with calls and messages when he was halfway back to Cloud district. Michael blocked him. It was better not to take risks.

Work was blissfully uneventful and drama-free. Michael’s boss had taken a political trip to Naravon Vu, so aside from having to process weird expenses like several places that appeared to be strip clubs, Michael had a fairly easy time.

He received a message in his work inbox in the middle of the week. 

_ Updated Contract for Cmdr Cross  _

His contract? He clicked through and realised it was the raise Lord Shurley had spoken of. Michael’s head hurt as he looked at it. There was no ‘No, thank you’ option on the digital contract. Just a checkbox to acknowledge the changes. He didn’t want a raise. He tried closing out of the contract instead but the computer refused to allow it. Frustrated, he rebooted the damn thing and it thankfully had nothing open when he logged back in. Lord Shurley probably had already forgotten about it, he figured. He would just leave the raise in limbo for perpetuity.

On Friday he got a strange message from an unknown number.

_ WINNER!!!! _

_ MICHAEL CROSS, you have won a free ticket to Turquoise Ice & Water Park!!! Congratulations! This ticket will be valid from 9 - 12 Saturday 13th December. To use, please present this WINNER’S MESSAGE at the entrance. _

_ Turquoise Ice & Water Park is available at Ward 973 Turquoise District. Winners without access will be given temporary access on their ticket day. _

This was a scam, right? Michael was boggled. It didn’t say what competition he’d won. And the time was so specific. Maybe there was going to be a group of thugs waiting there to mug him.

Maybe there wasn’t even a real park there.

He looked it up on X-Net and was frankly surprised to see it was a real park. But Michael hadn’t entered a raffle or anything. How could he have won a free ticket? It had to be a scam. Or a prank. He shows this message to the park employees, they laugh in his face. That was probably it.

He focused on his work. It was best that way.

Saturday morning rolled around too soon and Michael stared at the ceiling. He didn’t work on Saturdays. Hmm.

He climbed out of bed. If the ticket thing was real, free ticket. If not, he could just go down to Dove district and have a beer at one of the many dives down there. He hadn’t been to his home district since. His head hurt. He hadn’t been to his home district since Lord Shurley hired him, he thought.

He wore some of his nice new clothes Adam had picked out for him. The boy had an eye for fashion. If only he had a better eye for partners. 

The lift did let him go down to Turquoise district, so that was one hurdle passed. The Ice & Water park was huge. The only amusement parks Michael had been to had been tiny shitty things with a teacup ride and maybe a Ferris wheel. This place had enormous thrill rides visible from outside the park with hundreds of people screaming joy. Further in the distance Michael could see huge snow-covered mountains with thousands of tiny dots sailing down their slopes. He began to feel excitement despite himself. He had plenty of disposable income. If it was a scam, he could just buy a ticket, right? Unless they didn’t sell to Greys. Everyone passing through was a Chroma. They gave him filthy stares as per usual.

There was a VIP line, a Season Pass line, a Premium line and a Standard line. Michael, the quintessential Standard, got in that line. He double checked the message, but it didn’t say which line. Someone tapped him on the shoulder almost immediately. Oh no. He was getting kicked out. He looked up to see Adam’s earnest face.

“Michael. Hey,” he breathed. Adam was here?

“Hello, Adam,” Michael said, trying to be polite. “You also won a ticket?” Oh. Something occurred to him. “Was it the froyo place? Did we enter a raffle when we ate there?”

“Um,” Adam said, and rubbed the back of the neck. “There wasn’t any raffle. I sent you that message. Sorry.”

Adam tried to pull him out of the line, but Michael stood still. “Adam, I need to keep my place in line or I’ll be here even longer.” A hundred more people were already standing behind him.

“It’s fine,” Adam said. “I have premium access.” He waved a card at Michael, who glanced at the Premium line. It was very short, and they were admitted much more quickly.

“I don’t,” Michael began, puzzled. “What’s going on here? You’re scamming me?”

“I’m not scamming you,” Adam said gently. “Let’s get in the park and we’ll talk, okay?”

“Your mother will arrest me,” Michael said flatly. He couldn’t go to jail again.

“No, she won’t. It was just a misunderstanding. I told you, okay? I’ll explain when we’re in.” He nodded once more at the Premium line. Michael’s brain yelled at him as he allowed himself to be led by the handsome young man over to the rich kid’s line. Adam waved the card and paid for two tickets with it.

“It’s a credit card?” Michael wondered. He had thought Premium was another kind of season pass.

“Uhh, kind of. It’s a F-Bank subscription service,” Adam told him. “Gets you special access to all kinds of places. And yeah, doubles as a payment card. I think part of the subscription is loading money into it.” Adam wrinkled his nose. “I’m pretty sure it’s stupidly expensive, but my dad pays for it and they can milk him for all he’s worth as far as I’m concerned.”

Adam’s Father. His Gold parent. Michael wondered what family Adam was from. Milligan probably wasn’t his legal name if it was his Purple Mother’s name. Perhaps Michael should ask. Gold stars on his face. Michael struggled to place where he’d seen it before. There weren’t that many Gold families. It shouldn’t be hard.

It was loud in the park. Not conducive to personal conversations. Adam was leading Michael around but he was clearly just as clueless as to where they could talk privately. Eventually the two of them went off to some trees behind a gate behind a huge water slide.

“You went away last week,” Adam complained. “I told you to stay.”

“I’m not a dog, and I cannot afford to get arrested.”

Adam shook his head. “Mom wasn’t actually going to call the police. She was just panicking. Sorry.”

“Because I’m Grey.”

“No, uhh. It’s a little more crazy than that. Your boss called her.”

“... What?” Whatever Michael had been expecting Adam to say, it certainly wasn’t that.

“Um, I guess he tracked your location to our house. He called Mom at work and told her there’d be hell to pay if you were still there the next time he tracked you. She rushed home ASAP to see what was going on.”

“What?” Michael said again. That didn’t make sense. Why would Lord Shurley care whose house he’s at?

“Mom didn’t get it either. But, I guess Dad’s family and your boss’s family are kind of at odds. So it’s probably to do with that. She didn’t want me or her to get wrapped up in politics, so.” Adam shrugged. “Anyway, Mom’s not Chromist. Your boss is weirdly controlling. Okay?”

“So I should not be here with you,” Michael decided, “Or I will get fired.”

“No, no,” Adam said, leaping and catching Michael around the waist as he attempted to walk away. “Let’s just have dates in public places. Then he won’t know.”

Michael stared at him. “Adam, I haven’t left Cloud district in years. If he’s actively tracking my location, he’s going to notice I’m continuing to go on dates with you.”

“Just one date. Please? It’ll be fun,” said Adam, still wrapped around him. “This park is great, I come here all the time. Did you bring swimmers?”

“I dislike swimming,” Michael said, staring at the twisting water slide in front of them. Adam huffed in disappointment, slumping against Michael’s back. “I would not mind trying the ski slopes, though.”

Adam instantly cheered up.

This is too dangerous, Michael thought, watching Adam chirpily rent them ski gear from the kiosk. I am going to get fired. I will have to move back to Dove district. At least he’d easily be able to afford a slum there, he thought grimly. Adam was asking him something. 

“Michael? What colour do you want?” Michael looked into Adam’s eyes. Like a sparkling lake. 

“Blue,” he said confidently. Adam grinned.

“Blue suits you,” he complimented Michael as they put their gear on. Michael sulked a bit. He didn’t realise they were picking their own colours. Adam would look nicer in this.

“Have you been skiing before?” Adam asked.

“Probably.”

“Probably? How can you not know?”

“My memory’s not too good,” Michael admitted. “I’ve been in and out of hospitals a lot in four hundred years. I don’t remember much of my youth. Maybe I went with my family once or twice.”

“Your family?” Oh dear, he had attracted Adam’s curiosity. “What were they like?”

It was difficult for Michael to recall that far back, but he was too susceptible to indulging this person that could not under any circumstances become his boyfriend.

“Father was strict. And religious. Mother worked as a teacher. In a primary school in the day, and she had a second job doing night classes at a community college.”

“What did your dad do?”

“Father did not work. It was against his beliefs. Because women bore the sins of Eve, it was their duty to work as repentance.”

They hopped in the chair lift. It took Michael some time to realise Adam hadn’t asked any follow up questions, and was gazing at him in bemusement. “What’s wrong?”

“Uh,” Adam said, scratching his head. “I thought you said your boss hired you ‘cause your dad used to work for him.”

“Yes,” said Michael. “That’s strange.” He hadn’t thought about it before. “Mother and Father separated when I was 12,” he remembered. “Perhaps Father was forced to get a job.” Had they separated or had Father died? No, that made even less sense. 

Adam looked worried. “If you’re not feeling well we can cut the date short,” he suggested.

“I’m feeling fine,” Michael said. Adam bit his lip.

“You’re shaking a bit.”

“No, I’m not.” Michael inspected himself. He did not seem to be shaking as far as he could tell. “Your turn.”

“Huh?” said Adam. Michael smiled victoriously at catching him off guard.

“Tell me about your family,” he prompted.

“Oh, uh. Mom works as a nurse… you met her.”

“I recall.”

Adam flinched. “She’s nice, I promise.”

“Hmm. And your mysterious Gold family? Who are military, if I recall correctly.”

Adam didn’t meet his gaze. “Uhh, yeah. I don’t talk to them much. So…”

“But they pay for you to go an amusement park every weekend?”

“It’s not that - wait, hang on,” Adam interrupted himself. Michael considered him curiously. “I don’t come here every weekend.”

“You said you come here all the time,” Michael recited.

“Not literally - Yeesh…” Adam dragged a hand across his face.

“You have a half brother,” Michael noted.

“Two, actually. One pretends to give a shit and the other doesn’t.”

“What are their names?” 

“Sam and Dean. Winchester,” Adam drawled in an exaggeratedly upper class accent. 

Winchester. That did ring a bell. Michael looked at the gold sprinkled on Adam’s face. On his purple flowers they were clearly stars. On pale skin, one might confuse them with freckles. Michael… he had gotten in trouble, hadn’t he? But he couldn’t remember why.

Adam was shaking him. “We gotta jump off,” he said. The chair lift had reached the top of the mountain. The artificial climate was in full force here; freezing them half to death in the middle of summer. Michael followed Adam’s lead.

“So, my lord, will you teach me how to ski?” Adam stared at him. “Uhh, I guess.” Michael was not filled with confidence by this response

“You come here all the time,” he reminded him.

“I normally go on the slides,” Adam said, pointing back down at the waterpark. They had a spectacular view of it from up here. “Um, it’s ok, I’ve done this before.” 

Skiing wasn’t too complicated. Michael caught on pretty quickly. Just keep his balance, and avoid obstacles - not that there were any on the Easy rated slopes. Easy was too easy, and Michael insisted going back up for a harder level. Adam followed him reluctantly. “One more,” he said. “You still seem a little sick.”

Michael was touched, although Adam’s concern was completely unfounded. The intermediate slopes were a bit more challenging, but Michael craved the expert slopes on the other side of the mountain.

Adam arrived at the bottom a little bit later. “You’re such a a jock,” he teased. “I was pretty surprised when you first took off that ugly accountants suit and revealed a bodybuilder’s body.”

“I’m not a bodybuilder,” Michael said. “I do a normal amount of weights at the gym.”

“Mmm, sure,” Adam said, taking his hand and pulling him back to the ski gear kiosk. “Come on, let’s go on the slides.”

One couldn’t rent swimming gear, but it was available to purchase in the shopping area of the waterpark. “I don’t like swimming very much, it’ll be a waste. How about I just watch you go on the slides?”

“Cause then it’d be like you’re my parent taking me to the park,” Adam hissed. “I went skiing with you, you owe me.”

Michael couldn’t argue with that logic. He bought some swimming trunks and obliged his kind and generous boyfriend. The water slides weren’t like standing around in the sea or the pool, at least. He allowed himself to enjoy the rush of being pushed around loop de loops and being knocked from side to side by powerful bursts of water. Adam had his legs locked around Michael in front of him, and his cheers echoed loudly through the giant tubes. 

Eventually even Adam tired of this and they wandered through the shopping plaza, fairy floss in their hands. Pure spun sugar was a little too sweet for Michael’s liking, but he nibbled on it slowly. Adam was devouring his quick enough that Michael figured he’d ask for his leftovers anyway. 

“Let’s wrap it up here,” Adam suggested, finishing his fairy floss off and throwing the stick in a nearby bin. He only had to briefly glance at Michael’s before it was handed to him.

“Already? The sun is still up.” Michael is a little disappointed. Had Adam already grown sick of him?

“I know, but… you’re pretty pale.” Adam touched his forehead, frowning. “How often do you go to the doctor?”

“Once a year,” said Michael. 

“Once a year? Jesus. Mom makes me go once a fortnight. Um.” Adam pressed his hands together, thinking. “Well, maybe we can take you to a clinic now and have you checked over.”

“Adam, I’m not sick,” Michael said, his frustration breaking through just a little.

“Okay. Just take it easy tonight, though. Do they have in-house Medical at the Shurley house? They must, right?”

“Of course.”

“Just get some rest,” Adam said.

Michael acquiesced. His boyfriend was certainly stubborn. Forbidden thoughts that he had spent the last week erasing were creeping back into his head. Spanking a bound Adam with a paddle. Then who would be sick?

Adam insisted on walking him back to the lift. “Thank you for the date, Adam,” Michael said. “I suppose this is our last one.”

Adam sighed and rubbed at his eyes. “Unblock me and we can talk about it. Just get home safely. Ward 1, Cloud District. Or should I come with you?”

“I am fine,” Michael said, for the billionth time that day, but as soon as he entered the lift he felt dizzy. Where -? Adam had just said it. “Cloud 1, Ward district.” There was no response. Michael remembered to present his ID to the scanner. “Cloud 1, Ward.” 

The computer took a moment to process it. “Ward 1, Cloud district?” it asked to confirm.

“Yes.” Michael rolled his eyes. Now even the lift was giving him trouble. 

He tried not to stumble on the way back to the mansion. Water slides threw off my balance, he thought.

He stopped in at Medical regardless. The doctor and nurse, sitting and chatting, both jumped up to greet him. “Mr Cross, is everything alright?” the nurse asked.

“Could you please just look me over and give me a clean bill of health so I can tell my boyfriend to stop worrying,” said Michael tiredly.

The doctor had him sit down and answer a few questions before examining his physical status with a mediscanner. She typed at her computer with grandmotherly speed. “Did you have a stressful day, Commander?” she asked. “It’s just a resurgence of radiation sickness symptoms, I expect.” Michael shook his head. He didn’t have radiation sickness. That didn’t make any sense.

“Take it easy for the next couple of days,” she advised. “If you’re still feeling unwell by Monday, come by again and we’ll take you to the hospital for a proper examination. In the meantime, I’ll prescribe you some Xpranactin.” She looked at the nurse who went into the other room. “I know you haven’t needed to take it for a few years, but it’s just a precaution. Two in the morning, two at night. Give him eight,” she said to the nurse as he came back in. The nurse removed eight pills from a larger bottle and put them in a small clear bottle, and wrote Michael’s name on it with marker. He handed it to Michael, who stared it at it blankly.

“I think there’s been a mistake,” he said plainly. “I don’t have radiation sickness. I’ve never taken Xpranactin. You must have someone else’s chart up. I am Michael Cross.” He waited patiently. The doctor frowned and typed some more on the computer.

“I know, Commander. I have your chart up now. Can you tell me your birthdate?”

“Surely it’s on my chart?” asked Michael, bewildered. “1st June, 4698.”

“I see. And how old are you?”

He had just given her his birthdate. He would hope the doctor could do simple arithmetic. He tapped his half-centuries in annoyance. “400.”

“400 exactly, Commander?”

He sighed. Let’s see, they had just passed a new century. It was 5101 HE, unless he had slept for a few decades. “403, Doctor. Can I go now?”

“Just a few more questions, Commander. Who is the current president?”

“I don’t know. I don’t care.” This was stupid. It wasn’t like he had a concussion.

“You don’t know?” More typing. Annoying. “Can you take a guess?”

Not if it was going to get him thrown in the nuthouse. But fine. Lord and Lady Shurley had been discussing politics last week at lunch. Michael hadn’t been paying attention, so he struggled now to even recall a single name they mentioned. “Robert Singer?” he said at last.

“I see. One more question, Commander. What was your previous job?”

“I was a commander in the Space Force. I captained a war ship.”

Tap tap tap. Perhaps she would be a more proficient typist if she removed the three centimetre long fake nails she had on. 

“Thank you. I will have to request that you definitely come back in Monday for a second check-up. Please try to avoid stressful situations before then.” 

“Yes, doctor.” Did this mean he could leave? “Bye.”

“Goodbye, Commander. Remember, two in the morning, and two at night.” He stood up. His legs were a bit wobbly from sitting down. “Samandriel, do help the good Commander to his room,” she told the nurse, who was nervously standing at attention.

“Yes ma’am. Mr Cross, this way, please,” he said, and led the way back to Michael’s room.

He lay on his bed with frustration. This is why he didn’t go to Medical. Heads stuffed up their goddamn asses. He had a message on his phone. From the number that sent him the scam message.

_ Did you unblock me yet? - Adam _

Oh. Michael unblocked his number, and what looked to be about a billion messages started flooding in. Michael hoped he wasn’t expected to read all of those. The most recent few were just asking if he was okay.

_ Dear Adam _

_ I am okay. I am resting in bed now as per your request. I went to see Medical and they gave me some pills. _

_ mc _

His phone buzzed almost instantly with a response.

_ That’s good!!!  _ Followed by nine hearts.

_ If you’re feeling better maybe we can go on another date tomorrow?  _ Sixteen hearts. Michael was puzzled by the inconsistency.

_ Adam, _

_ I don’t think that’s a good idea. _

_ mc _

Adam himself had told him that Michael’s boss did not approve of this relationship. Michael did not want to be homeless. He could not be homeless again.

_ Oh, okay! Maybe next week, then! I’ll stop bothering you now. Sleep!!  _ Eleven hearts.

Adam didn’t understand. But Michael didn’t have the heart to say it directly.

He’d never had someone this eager to spend time with him. How difficult.

Lord Shurley was calling him. Michael must have dozed off, the time on his phone indicated it was several hours later. He sat up and answered, his head warm and groggy.

“Yes, my lord?”

“Michael? Were you sleeping? I thought it was still daytime on Aura.” His lordship sounded short today.

“It is evening six, my lord. How may I be of service?”

“Did you go to Turquoise today?”

“Yes?” Did Lord Shurley really keep that close an eye on his whereabouts? Even while on a business trip to Naravon Vu?

“Why?”

“I went to the Ice and Water Park.”

“With who?”

Michael hadn’t said he was with anyone. Oh dear. He’d already been made. He was going to get fired.

“Adam Milligan,” he said, wincing. “He’s my -”

“You mean Adam Winchester? Michael, why are you involving yourself with those people? After everything they’ve done to you?” He sounded upset. Michael wasn’t quite sure what was going on.

“I’m sorry, I -”

“Michael, you cannot rejoin the military. If that’s what they’re telling you, they’re lying. They want to use you again. Or get rid of you, most likely.”

“I don’t -”

“Stop arguing with me,” Lord Shurley said firmly. “Stay in the house. You are no longer permitted to leave. If a Winchester contacts you, forward the details onto me and do not respond. I will be back on Monday.” He hung up abruptly. 

Michael’s head hurt. He didn’t want to think about Winchesters or the military or radiation sickness or fucking Xpranactin. It made him drowsy, he recalled. Maybe that’s why he was having trouble remembering it. He was probably asleep 80% of the time he was on it. He threw the bottle on the floor. Biop, so no satisfying smash.

He blocked Adam’s number again. He wished he could block his boss’s as well. If he hated this Gold family, why did he invite them into their house? Didn’t make any sense. He didn’t get it. He didn’t get it. He didn’t get it.


	5. Chapter 5

The keys crunched quite loudly as he tapped them. He wished they would be quieter. At least his figures were behaving today. He smiled as the numbers on the screen in front of him lined up quite nicely.

The tapping sound was increasing in volume. An idea struck him and he quickly typed up a purchase order for a ‘Silent Keyboard’ and forwarded it to his boss for approval. He’d had a lot of good ideas lately. The Xpranactin had done a great job of speeding his brain up. He didn’t have a whole lot of work to do – Lord Shurley in cahoots with Medical had greatly reduced his workload because he was suffering from “radiation sickness” – so he went ahead and started drafting a proposal of ways to reduce noise pollution in the mansion. For example, removing plates and cutlery would greatly quieten dinnertime, he thought.

“Michael?” He looked up from his magnum opus to see Lord Shurley standing in the doorway. “Why did you send me a purchase order for a new keyboard? Is that one broken?”

“No. It is very loud though.” Michael tapped the keys a few times to demonstrate. His boss slowly folded his arms.

“You wanted it loud, Michael. We custom-ordered a mechanical keyboard for you. Remember?” he said patiently.

Come to think of it, he did remember that. “Yes.”

“Okay. Well,” Lord Shurley sighed and checked his watch. “It’s one o’clock. Why are you still at work? Have you balanced yesterday’s figures?”

“Yes. Many times,” Michael said happily. 

“Once is enough, Michael.” He rubbed his temple. “Clock off for the day and go have lunch.”

Michael waltzed out of his office, noticing on his way past how exceedingly short Lord Shurley was today. If Michael was a short multi-trillionaire, he’d just pay for longer legs. Seemed simple enough.

Michael sat alone at a table in the servants’ dining hall. None of the food being served looked particularly appetising, so he sat with an empty plate and hoped this would count enough as ‘having lunch’. The medicine was making his stomach slightly nauseous anyhow. Other servants were giving him nervous glances, but Michael was used to that sort of thing. He smiled at his reflection in the very shiny plate.

“Michael?” a squeaky female voice said from in front of him. He looked up to see the youngest Lady Shurley sitting opposite him.

“Hello, Lady Shurley. It is strange to see you in the servants’ area,” Michael noted. She giggled.

“Well, I just came here looking for you. Daddy said you’ve gone funny so to make sure you were eating lunch, but you weren’t in the dining room or your room…” She poked his plate. “This doesn’t look used, young man.”

“I am not hungry, so I have not had lunch. I have had water,” Michael added, not wanting to get in trouble.

“Did you have breakfast?” she asked. He shook his head. “Okay, let’s go to the dining room and grab you a banana or something. I gotta make sure you eat something or Daddy will be mad.”

“We are in the dining hall,” Michael said. “They are not serving bananas today.”

She rolled her eyes. “The Family dining room, come on.” She grabbed his hand and attempted to pull him out of his chair; Michael, being about three times the weight of the petite Gold continued to sit as his arm was weakly yanked. “Michael, please.”

“I am not hungry,” he reminded her, but stood up. “Of course, I will follow your instructions, your ladyship.” 

She giggled again. “That’s good enough for me. Come on…” She escorted him to the Family dining hall, and rushed away somewhere to fetch him a large platter of assorted fruits, cheeses and breads. 

“Just eat as much as you can, and I’ll have the rest,” she assured him. Michael glumly examined the platter, and popped an apple piece in his mouth. He pushed the platter back towards Gabriel.

“Done.”

“Oh, no,” she said, looking worried. “Have a bit more. Or do we need to go to Medical?”

Was that a threat? Michael reluctantly had a few more pieces before pushing it away again. This time, she relented and began tearing into the food herself. He wandered off, not wanting to watch. She reminded him of Adam. He, too, was bossy without having an inch of authority in him.

He unblocked Adam on his phone and gave him a ring. It went to messages. “Adam, I’m sorry I blocked you. I miss you. They’re making me eat fruit.” 

He went to the gym. He supposed since he had been forced out of work four hours early, that was four more hours to work out. He was on medication, so he made sure to avoid doing anything strenuous.

Adam called him on his second hour on the steps. “Hello Adam,” Michael answered cheerfully. “I miss you.”

“Yeah, I got your message. Uh, are you alright? It sounded like you were crying.”

“I’m fine. Thank you. They have put me on medication for ‘radiation sickness’.” Michael nearly fell off the steps when he released the handles to make the finger quotes.

“Yeah. You mentioned something like that last Saturday. And then you blocked me.” Adam sounded exasperated, although Michael couldn’t blame him.

“I’m sorry. My boss found out about our date and got mad. But I have decided I don’t care,” Michael declared. “I will go be homeless in Dove district if it means I can date you.”

“Dove district?”

“It’s a Grey district,” said Michael. Adam sounded bewildered for some reason.

“Uhh, a Grey district? Probably best to stay out of there, then…” Adam trailed off uncomfortably.

“It’s not too bad.” Michael had thought Adam fairly tolerant for a Gold boy. This was unexpected.

“Um, but I thought all Grey districts had at least another half-century before all the radiation was cleared out? So there’s no way they’d actually make you live in one of those.”

“There’s no radiation.” Good grief. Why was everyone bringing up radiation lately?

“There – well – Michael, come on,” Adam pleaded. “Look, if you do get kicked out, just give me a call, okay? Radiation or not, Grey districts have been forbidden zones for over a century. So…”

They have? Admittedly, Michael has not tried to go home since he started working here. He tapped the phone against his head. Why didn’t he know of this? There was silence for a few seconds before he realised Adam was waiting for a response. “I will call you when I get fired,” he promised.

“Good – uh – not the you getting fired part.”

“It is inevitable,” Michael said heavily. “Lord Shurley was very angry on Saturday. And he was sighing a lot today.”

Adam was dubious, but Michael was certain. He was as a result very surprised when he reached the end of the day without being forcefully removed from his room and the house. Perhaps the lordship was planning some other kind of punishment. A penalty game, or some such.

Michael happily carried on through the week, energised by the medicine he was being forced to take. He honestly couldn’t remember why he disliked the stuff; he hadn’t felt this incredible in years. He beamed at every guest he bumped into and complimented all the staff that picked him off the ground and helped him navigate back to his room. Really, everyone here was a lot nicer than he had realised. He should try to make more friends.

Lord Shurley must have been pleased with his performance; he gave Michael the entire day off on Friday. Michael thought he would normally be irritated by it, but the world was such a wonderful place he could only think of it as a blessing. He spent all morning decorating his room with paper he drew on and coloured in at his desk. His muscles felt strangely sore as he hung them up, but he pushed the thought aside. He must just be working harder at the gym.

But Michael couldn’t sleep that night. His head was pounding, and he was cold all over. He couldn’t turn the heating up in his room - it was controlled elsewhere - so he wrapped himself up in all of his spare blankets and sat on the bed, shaking miserably. 

They were poisoning him, Michael realised eventually. It explained how he was still sick even after taking all the medications they had prescribed for him, for illnesses he couldn’t possibly have. How many people were in on it? All the medical staff, at least, and Lord Shurley. He could easily have Michael executed for some made-up reason - he must be doing this for his own sick amusement. 

Michael’s stomach dropped with horror at the betrayal. He had worked so hard for - for what? 

He stumbled off the bed and grabbed the bottle of pills sitting on his desk. Xpranactin. It was obviously poison. X for death, like XXX, and then P for poison, R for revenge - he tossed it in the garbage disposal. How had he not seen it before?

He headed out into the corridors of the house, a furious behemoth of blankets and pyjamas. He had not spent two hundred years in the darkest depths of space just to serve as some sacrificial plaything. He’d - he’d go back to the Grey, as unpleasant as it was. At least the people down there were  _ honest  _ about trying to kill you.

The night security staff called out to him in alarm as he hurried through the mansion, but he ignored them. They were all working for his would-be murderer. They were the enemy. 

The main entrance would be guarded for sure. He headed to the servant’s side-entrance instead, but changed course when he saw it was also staffed. There was another side entrance within the family withdrawing area - he had been invited in there enough to know - so he went there instead, now followed by a pack of security guards.

There was a guard at that door, too. Michael doubled back in alarm, running into the cautious grasp of the staff that had been following him.

“Commander -  _ please _ ,” the one holding him said desperately. “Do you require an escort to Medical?”

“No,” Michael said angrily. “I’m leaving. I quit. Let me out of the house, you serpents.”

“You are unwell, sir. Please allow us to help,” they pleaded.

Another of the guards said “Ah - your ladyship -” as Lady Gabriel curiously entered the drawing room. 

“What’s everyone doing in here? Oh, Michael,” she said, her lazy drawl quickly turning alarmed. “Are you alright?”

“Go away,” he told her, trying to struggle out of the guard’s grip. They continued to hold on pretty firmly. “I’m leaving. I’m  _ leaving _ .”

“Michael - come on,” Gabriel said, carefully grabbing his hand through the blankets. She nearly dropped it in surprise. “You’re  _ freezing _ ,” she said in disbelief, feeling his forehead as well.

“Don’t touch me, your ladyship,” he warned, but Gabriel was shaking her head and barking orders at the security staff.

“Get Medical here now, we need their help escorting Michael to the hospital.” One of them stepped away and began urgently talking into his phone. 

“Prep a car in the garage,” she told someone else, and they hurried off. “Michael,” she said, gently squeezing his hand. “I know you’re scared right now. We’re going to get you nice and safe, okay? We’re just going to the hospital.”

“No, no,” Michael said. The hospital. Wouldn’t they find the poison? But Lord Shurley  _ owned  _ the Cloud Hospital. They’d look the other way.

“Yes, yes,” she said. “Come on, big boy. We’re all worried about you, can’t you see?”

The nurse from Medical arrived and they, Gabriel and Security all herded him to the garage where a car was already humming, waiting to take off.

“Straight to the hospital, yeah,” Lady Shurley told the driver as she sat next to Michael in the car, sandwiching him between her and the nurse. “The 25th floor on our reserved landing pad.” 

Michael’s heart was pounding so loudly he worried it was going to burst out of his chest. The nurse beside him was quietly inspecting him, feeling what parts of Michael he could find underneath the blankets.

“Commander,” she said politely, “Please stick out your tongue.” She had taken a small bottle out of her kit and was holding an eyedropper ready.

Michael eyed it suspiciously. “No,” he decided.

“This medicine will help correct your body temperature,” she urged, making eye contact with Gabriel, who was on the phone with someone. Gabriel poked his cheek. Michael reluctantly stuck out his tongue, and she dropped a shining gold liquid onto it.

“Thank you, Commander,” the nurse said graciously. Michael scowled and turned his gaze outside. The car had lifted off the ground once they had left the boundaries of the mansion, and was flying to the ward that the hospital sat in. Where they were going to kill him. They had sat Michael as far away from the doors as possible, so he had no hope of escaping his imminent death.

***

Michael sourly lay in the hospital bed. Uncomfortable things stuck in him aside, this was a very luxurious hospital suite. Strange for them to waste it on a Grey like himself. Although, come to think of it, he vaguely remembered being in a similar place for his last few hospital trips.

Lady Shurley had been hovering in the hospital room the entire time, on and off the phone and otherwise staring anxiously at Michael. He had decided the most dignified way to end would be to not even acknowledge his murderers, so he had lain silent while the hospital staff had tried to interrogate him under the facade of providing health care.

Lady Shurley had been nodding off when her phone went off once more, startling her into jumping up and nearly dropping it. She grimaced when she read the name on the screen, but answered it brightly enough.

“Hello? … Oh, hi Michael. Yes, he’s… I took him to hospital. Did you get my message?” She frowned, clutching her hair. “Um, I don’t know… Yeah, he’s been having an episode for a while, we think. He’s been on medication for a week but it looks like it’s just made it worse. Dad said… well, okay. Um, I don’t know how long. Huh?” She glanced at Michael, holding the phone away from her mouth. “Did you block Michael?”

“I’m Michael,” he replied, puzzled.

“I mean my brother,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“I didn’t know you had a brother.” 

Her frown deepened at that. “He’s really out of it, he… yeah. Yes. Okay.” She passed the phone to him. “He wants to talk to you.”

“Hello?” Michael said, feeling a little baffled. Why would Lady Gabriel’s mystery brother want to speak with him? Was this another game?

“Hello, dear,” a rich, smooth voice murmured into his ear. It did sound somewhat familiar. “Gabriel tells me you’re in the hospital.”

“Who are you,” Michael said, a nervousness overcoming his voice. “Are you working for the killers?”

“No, dear. It’s Michael. Michael Shurley. Your husband. Remember?”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: sad endings suck so i changed it B)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I didn't really want to keep writing Silver & Gold because the plot wasn't really going where I wanted, I did want to write with kind of a similar concept but a different plot. However I couldn't live with myself if I left this one unfinished so I've basically dumped all the rest of the plot & backstory exposition into one chapter. So if you're like "why is the writing suddenly different" this is why.

“But I don’t have a husband,” Michael protested. “I’m not married.”

“Yes, you are,” the voice on the phone said, oozing with condescension. “You’re wearing your wedding ring, aren’t you, my dear?”

Michael checked all of his fingers with care. “No, I’m not. I’m not wearing any rings.”

“Don’t tell me you lost it. Ah, angel, lift your shirt up for me and check there, won’t you?”

Michael was wearing a hospital gown, so he made sure his body was hidden by the sheets before pulling it up to confusedly inspect his belly. Pierced through the cavity of his belly button was a thick gold ring. He read the engraving on it. “ _For my angel from the stars_.”

“I have a ring,” he said into the phone.

“Of course you do, dear. We’re married, remember?” 

“I don’t - but - I can’t be married,” said Michael. He felt nauseous. “I - I -”

“Don’t worry about it too much, my dear,” the other Michael said, his voice quickly changing from patronising to businesslike. “I see you are having quite a bad episode. I will come home immediately. Father was _supposed_ to be making sure you were happy and healthy. And yet what an awful state you are in.”

“Don’t - don’t come,” Michael whispered. He was going to throw up. He was _married_ ? He’d had sex with Adam - _twice -_

 _“_ I do think I have to, angel. I must ensure you are being taken care of.”

“But I - I slept -” Michael couldn’t finish the confession, his guilt and horror bringing forth the contents of his stomach out of mouth instead. The nurse in the room had already noticed he was on the edge and had brought over a container for it, quickly pulling him upright so he didn’t choke on his own vomit.

The voice on the phone was silent while he was hurling. He only spoke up again when Michael was thankfully gulping down water handed to him by the nurse. “Slept with _who_ , Michael? Not one of my sisters.”

His sisters? “Adam,” Michael said hoarsely.

“I see.” The man’s voice was much colder than before. “Well, my dear, now I must come back and deal with the man who took advantage of my sick husband. I believe if I go by a private carrier I can get to Aurellius within three days. Until then, please try to stay calm and do as the hospital staff ask of you, alright?”

Michael nodded. “He’s nodding, Michael,” Gabriel yelled from across the room.

“Thank you, dear. Pass the phone back to Gabriel, would you? Oh, and angel, please unlock me on your own phone. You can’t still really be mad about the sock thing, can you?”

“What sock thing?”

“Exactly.”

“I don’t have my phone. They kidnapped me and took me to the hospital,” Michael told him.

“That’s alright, angel. I’ll arrange to have it brought to you. Pass the phone back to Gabriel, please, my dear.”

Michael handed the phone back to Gabriel. “He says he’s my husband,” he said in disbelief.

“Uh, yeah,” Gabriel said, turning away from him as she spoke quietly into the phone.

They brought him his own phone a couple of hours later. Michael curiously searched for a Michael Shurley in his contact history.

He _had_ blocked him.

The last thing Michael had said before blocking him was “What in God’s name is wrong with you?” This was in response to… Michael honestly felt queasy as he read through the texts.

“Could you take a picture of you wearing odd socks?”

“What?”

“A picture of your feet, with mismatched socks on them. Please, dearest?”

Michael was _married_ to this person? What had he been thinking?

The deluge of blocked messages began pouring into his phone and he boredly scrolled through the barrage of “Michael?”s and “Dearest?”s and “Respond to me immediately”s. Good grief. 

It was a bad idea, but he called Adam anyway. “Hello?”

“Hello, Adam. It’s Michael.”

“Hey,” Adam said. “You doing okay? You sounded kinda strange earlier.”

“No, I’m in hospital. I just wanted to apologise.”

“For what?”

“I’ve unintentionally involved you in an affair.”

“What?”

“I’m married. We should not have had sex,” Michael explained.

“You - what?”

“I’m married. To Michael Shurley. Lord knows why he would marry a Grey.”

“You’re _married_ to Michael Shurley,” Adam said slowly. “I see.”

“I’m terribly sorry, Adam. It seems that my mind is in a considerable state of disrepair.”

“I’m sorry too,” Adam said, and hung up.

Michael clutched the phone to his chest as he settled into the bed and stared at the ceiling.

This was a strange hospital. There were nurses coming and going aplenty, checking his condition and dosing him with medication, bringing him food and changing his blankets, but he wasn’t seen by a doctor for a whole three days. When the doctor arrived, he was tall and dark, a three-piece suit on under his doctor’s coat, and had familiar gold lines in the shape of wings lighting up his face.

“Hello, dearest,” he greeted with a drawl. “Have the nurses been taking care of you?”

“Yes,” Michael said, staring as the doctor flipped through a file. 

“Good, good,” he murmured. “It’s Z-virus again, I’m afraid, my dear. I’ll take a couple of tests before I give you the booster.”

“Z-virus? They keep saying I have radiation sickness,” Michael said, puzzled.

“I know, dearest. Z-virus is classified information, so we need to keep it to ourselves, okay?”

Michael frowned at the doctor and lay perfectly still as he took some blood and saliva samples. “Are you my husband?” Michael asked, uncomfortably feeling how dry his swabbed out mouth was. The voice was the same as the one on the phone, and his tattoo was right.

“Yes, I am,” the doctor answered, typing into a device.

“I want a divorce,” Michael announced, and he immediately froze.

“I do beg your pardon? Dearest.”

“I don’t want to be married to a foot fetishist. There’s something wrong with you.”

The other Michael slowly put the things he was holding down and curiously put his hand over Michael’s prone neck, applying a gentle squeeze. “I’m not a foot fetishist, dear. I can assure you I have zero sexual interest in both you and your feet.” The pressure around his neck built, and Michael tried to push him off, but he readily grabbed Michael’s wrists with his other hand and pinned them above his head. “No matter what we do, the Z-virus continues to deteriorate your mind. Perhaps instead of a booster shot, I should just end it now. I think that would be kinder on everyone involved, don’t you?”

Michael struggled in his grasp - he hadn’t expected the calm and domineering doctor to be so deranged - and tried to wiggle over to the emergency button, but it was fruitless.

“Off,” Michael choked out. The other Michael smiled and squeezed harder, and Michael’s vision started to go black, his heart thumping loud in his ears.

The sound of the doors sliding open was faint as he drifted on the line between conscious and unconscious, and the doctor’s hand slid off his throat as an angry voice said, “Michael, what are you doing here? You were assigned to Zevira-2.”

“My beloved husband is suffering from Z-virus, Father, and of course I came rushing to help him once I heard,” the other Michael said smoothly. “I’m appalled that I was not informed he was having an episode sooner. Are you trying to kill my husband, Father? Tut, tut.”

“Off him. Now,” Lord Shurley ordered, and his son sighed and gracefully got off the bed.

Michael blinked up at his boss as he bent over him, trying to clear his vision. Lord Shurley sighed as wel as he brushed his fingers gently over Michael’s throat.

“Why were you choking him?” he said, voice flat.

“He has Z-virus, Father. It’s incurable. I’m only trying to put him out of his misery. Because I _care_.”

“Z-virus? Did you give him a booster shot?”

“Not yet.”

“I suggest you go prepare one before I extend your assignment another twenty years. I hear there are some extremely fatal viruses lurking out in Deep Space,” Lord Shurley said coldly.

“Yes, yes. No need for childish threats, Father,” the other Michael said, and strolled out the room.

“Did you call him?” the Lordship said quietly.

“No. I forgot he existed,” Michael said honestly. “Lady Gabriel called him.”

Lord Shurley pinched his brow. “ _Did_ she,” he muttered.

“I want a divorce. He is perverted and tried to kill me. I don’t understand why a Gold would marry a Grey in the first place,” Michael added.

“It was the best arrangement we could come up with,” the Lordship said, and frowned at Michael’s confused expression. “I know you want a divorce, Michael. That’s why I let you move downstairs into the servants’ quarters.”

“I have always lived there,” Michael said, mystified. Lord Shurley’s frown deepened and he picked up the file Dr Shurley had discarded, flicking through it with concern.

“This isn’t good, huh? Your memory’s going,” he mumbled to himself. “We’ll give you the booster, then GRS on your brain, but…”

“I had restorative surgery recently,” Michael said, tapping the markers on his head. “They won’t allow it.”

“Michael, I am ‘they’ and I am allowing it,” Lord Shurley said drily.

“Oh,” Michael said, faltering at the scolding voice.

It was easy to forget his place when they pampered him in such a nice hospital suite.

He couldn’t figure out why he had been married to Lord Shurley’s son, but if the Golds didn’t want to approve a divorce, he had no way to do it unilaterally.

But God, his husband wanted to _kill_ him. He was practically already _dead_.

They kept him in the hospital for weeks, although Dr Michael Shurley was quickly sent back off to Deep Space once he had given Michael his shot and treatment for Z-virus. Apparently the doctor was the universal expert on the virus. They performed the reconstructive surgery on Michael’s brain, trying to restore the memory function that had been damaged, and even uploaded a backup of Michael’s memory that was created regularly for precisely this issue, apparently.

Michael was on his best behaviour once he was allowed back home, back to his prison. He knew that since he had just been ‘fixed’, they wouldn’t be expecting anything crazy from him.

He borrowed another servant’s phone, at the gym, and dialled Adam’s number while leisurely pedalling the bike.

“Hello?” Adam said.

“Hello, rich boy. It’s Michael.”

“Oh, uh, hi. How are you doing?”

“I’m well. You told me on our first date you wanted to go fly on a space ship.”

Adam paused. “...Yeah?”

***

He still had access to Michael Shurley’s rather expansive bedroom suite in the mansion, including the good doctor’s personal computer. He sneaked in there one night and used the Gold’s account to remove the limits from his ID card, including lift travel options and tracking. 

At least his miserable excuse for a husband was good for _something_.

He packed his few possessions into a bag and made sure to wear the nicest clothes Adam had bought him. It was embarrassingly easy to walk out the front door with zero questions from the guard when he was dressed like a stylish young yuppie. 

He met Adam at a hangar in Olive district. The Gold boy was awkwardly standing near a tiny rust bucket of a shop, which Michael scanned his eyes over with disdain.

“Sorry,” Adam apologised. “The dealer needed cash to keep it off the books. I could only get so much out. Ships are expensive.”

“I know,” Michael said. “But if it doesn’t take off the ground, this will be a wasted endeavour and I may as well kill myself now.”

Adam winced. “Don’t say that.”

Michael climbed on board, and Adam followed him in. “Are you sure you want to come?” Michael double-checked. “This won’t be pleasant.”

Adam buckled himself into the co-pilot’s chair. “I’m pretty sure. Yeah.”

“Don’t touch anything,” Michael warned.

“Yeah, yeah.” This slightly less than official hangar provided its clients with exit codes that would get them through the planetary defences without raising any questions. It had been a long time since Michael had helmed a ship, but he got them off the ground and piloted them into orbit with only a few shaky turns.

“This thing can go into light speed, right?” he said to Adam after he relayed the codes to Aurelian Defence and they let the ship through.

“Uh, it’s meant to,” Adam said. “I thought we were just going to the next system.”

“No, we’re going to Earth.”

“What? Why?”

“I’m kidnapping you,” Michael explained.

“What?” Adam said, laughing nervously. Michael ignored him as he kicked the speed of the ship up several notches, weaving the ship out of sight of the planet he had been chained to for over a century and setting course for his homeplanet dozens of star systems away.

“Michael, we can’t go to Earth,” Adam said. “It’s in pieces.”

“The surface was destroyed by your kind,” Michael agreed. “But the planet remained. It will have healed since then.”

“My _kind?_ ” he scoffed. He was surprisingly calm despite being kidnapped. Perhaps he was under the delusion that Michael was joking.

“Aurellians,” Michael said. He kicked the ship into lightspeed. It was shaking pretty hard, but when he activated the warp drive to push them through the holes in space it steadied.

“Are you not?”

“I’m human.”

“Humans all died in the war when they refused to join the Alliance,” Adam said.

“Is that what they’re teaching kids in school these days? No, your people conquered us and brought us to your planet to be your slaves. You chiseled grey tattoos on our faces so we would remember our place.”

Adam was silent, but looking at him curiously.

“I have Z-virus,” Michael continued calmly.

“Z-virus is fatal. Like, a couple of days at most and you’re dead,” Adam objected.

“Only for Aurellians. The human immune system can fight it off, but not clear it out completely. It spread like wildfire among our segregated community.”

“Yeah. So many Greys had it, the military decided to nuke all the Grey districts,” Adam said quietly. “It was meant to be for the greater good. But people thought it was a conspiracy. That the military made up just how bad Z-virus was as an excuse to get rid of the Greys.”

“Did you think that?”

Adam hesitated. “I _was_ wondering. You didn’t seem to have any idea what I was talking about.”

“That’s the virus. I’ve had it for centuries now. When left unchecked, it destroys the mind.”

“Oh,” Adam said softly. He leaned his head onto Michael’s shoulder.

“I brought it back to Aura Aurellius,” Michael admitted. “I was a high-ranking commander with a team of other officers. We were scouting an alien planet and caught it from the locals. The rest of my team didn’t make it back.” He paused. “Aurellians, of course. It was very rare for a Grey to become an officer in the military.”

“You brought it back on purpose?”

“No, I didn’t realise I was infected at first. The effects were miniscule. When I got back, the medical staff at Command inspected me, realised I was carrying an alien virus. An expert virologist demanded to see me. Not a military doctor, but a high-ranking Gold. Dr Michael Shurley.”

“Your… husband, right?”

“Yes. He studied me for months in a secure facility, extracted the virus, even developed a vaccine, but not a cure. But he didn’t tell me that last part.”

“He didn’t…?” Adam asked, confused as to his meaning.

“I was released from the facility, under the impression I was cured, not aware the virus was still lurking deep in my body, waiting to make a resurgence. Once it came back, it probably would have torn through the ranks of the Alliance military.”

“Would have?”

“I went to an officer’s party. There was a handsome officer there. Freckles, on his face. I thought. I didn’t realise they were gold. We slept together. The next week, I was discharged from the military with zero explanation. But seeing your tattoo, I realise I slept with a Gold. He must have been trying to protect his reputation by getting rid of me.”

“You… ew,” Adam said. “God, please tell me it wasn’t with my dad.”

“I don’t know, we were very drunk. I don’t recall his name.”

“I’m going to assume it was a distant cousin or something.”

“As you wish,” Michael said politely. “So I was forced to return back to the ghettoes, the Grey districts. And the virus came back, and I infected my own people.”

Adam blinked up at him. “You didn’t do it on purpose.”

“I know.”

“Okay. You sound kind of upset.”

“I am upset. In fact, I’m very, very, very angry.”

Adam frowned. “Is this what your Dr Shurley wanted? All the Greys to get killed?”

“No, likely the opposite. He’s human too, you know.”

Adam stiffened. “What?”

“All of the Shurleys are human. Lord Shurley managed to con his way up the ranks of Aurellian society. At the end of the day, your people judge each other by what’s tattooed on their face.”

“ _What?_ ”

“He found me hunkering down in a military bunker I’d still had the codes for, despite being discharged. I’d received a lot of upgrades during my service, and managed to survive the blast. He was very relieved.”

“Why?” Adam said slowly, puzzled. “At that point, weren’t you evidence?”

“Because I am his son,” Michael said calmly. They flew in silence for a few minutes, Adam staring blankly into space.

“He’s your dad who disappeared when you were a kid?” Adam said eventually.

“No. He was my mother. He must have transitioned, but I have never asked why. We have never acknowledged that he is my parent. He referred to himself as my Father’s friend when he found me.”

“Yeah, you said, although you dropped the part about being in a bunker hiding from radiation.”

“When I am particularly ill, it is the most traumatic parts of my life that are the hardest to recall,” Michael explained.

Adam kissed him on the neck. “Okay. I understand.” He sighed a bit as he wrapped his arm around Michael. “Do I even want to know why your dad made you marry your half-brother who turned you into a biological weapon?”

“It’s not a real marriage,” Michael said. “It was just his way of putting me back in his family tree. He can say I am his _son-_ in-law.”

“So you’re not…”

“Good grief, Adam.”

“Don’t ‘good grief’ me when you’re the one saying fucked up shit like it’s perfectly normal.”

“Lord Shurley gave him my name, at that point under the impression I was dead. I think he was not entirely thrilled with the personality my replacement turned out to have,” Michael said drily.

“Right. Which is?”

“Violent asshole.”

“Gotcha.”

“Neither of us could be the son he wanted. I was irreparably damaged, and responsible for a genocide. His other son is a lunatic. But at the end of the day, he is very sentimental.” Michael leant back into Adam’s arm. “I wasn’t allowed to go out, not really, but that suited him fine. It kept me safe, even if it didn’t keep me happy.”

They sat in silence as the ship continued warping its way around the vectors of the universe. “Why are you telling me all this?” Adam asked, pulling away from him at last.

“I thought you would like to know why I’m kidnapping you,” Michael explained.

“Because, uh,” Adam opened and closed his mouth a few times. “Because of the genocide?”

“Not the one you’re thinking of. Adam, you took me out on dates while I was having a resurgence of Z-virus.”

“Yeah?” Adam said, but his mouth was becoming a terrified O long before Michael responded.

“I’m sure you’ve heard of the hundreds of unexplained deaths that have occurred in the last few weeks. It was very crowded at the Turquoise Ice & Water Park, wasn’t it?”

“No,” Adam mouthed. “That’s not -”

“Everyone is so easy to trace, when they carry their IDs around all the time. I’m sure they’ve found the common link already. And Lord Shurley, of course, would know the carrier of the virus. And who invited him to the park.”

“But that’s not - he’s protecting you, right?”

“Yes,” Michael agreed. “But if someone finds out that _I_ went to the park, of course that will stand out amongst the records. All Greys are supposed to be dead. And if he’s already lost me, he will likely throw you to the wolves as well. He hates your family.”

Adam was shaking, looking away. “No, no.”

They rounded one last corner and began approaching the system containing Earth. Michael felt tension leave his body as they entered his home system. This was forbidden space, ever since the “war”. Michael would reclaim his home.

Earth had started to recover herself; still covered in bruises but flowering with greenery near the largest water sources. Michael gently nudged his boyfriend, wanting him to see his home. “Look, Earth,” he said.

Adam was curled on his side, but briefly lifted his head to look at it. “Yeah, nice,” he muttered.

Michael navigated the ship to land in one of the green areas, near a lake. He pulled the near-comatose Adam out of the ship and gently lay him on the grass. “Everything will be okay,” he promised.

He checked the fuel remaining in the engines. It would survive a trip back, maybe not all the way to Aura Aurellius but to an Alliance outpost at least. 

“You weren’t paying attention, were you?” he asked. “On how to fly the ship.”

Adam didn’t reply.

“I’ll teach you. You can decide whether you want to go back or not.”

He lay next to Adam and pulled the boy’s arms around him. Adam was crying. Michael kissed his forehead.

“I’m a murderer. I’m a mass murderer. I made you go out with me.”

“You are not a murderer, you didn’t know.”

“What does it matter if the result is the same?”

Michael understood. Because in the end he was guilty of the same crime, but magnified a millionfold.

“Unlike me, you are not a scourge on society. You do not carry a curse in your blood,” he whispered. “You can go back and tell them I’m a monster who tricked you into letting me loose upon unwitting civilians. You are young. They will believe you.”

Adam shook his head. “You’re going to stay here?”

“I am going to die. The virus will die with me. It would have done so long ago if not for my so-called saviour.”

“But what about me? I must have it by now?”

“You are a Gold who sees your doctor once a month,” Michael said. “You are doubtlessly vaccinated. It will last long enough for me to teach you to fly.”

“Oh,” Adam said. “This isn’t - this isn’t fair. None of this is right.”

“I know,” Michael said quietly. “I know.”

Adam’s miserable tears dripped onto the ground below them. “I’m so selfish. So selfish.”

“You are not. You had no reason to think I was carrying a deadly virus. Be kinder to yourself.”

Adam shook his head and curled into Michael’s chest. “I don’t want this.”

“No one wants this,” Michael whispered.

Adam didn’t speak until a few hours later. “How long - how long can you keep yourself alive, here?”

“There is extant plantlife already growing. I can survive on that until the Z-virus resurges and slowly devours my brain,” Michael said. “But should you decide to stay, I will kill myself before it does, to avoid infecting you.”

“I’m not staying,” Adam said, his body tense.

Oh. Michael was relieved, but felt a little bit lonely. Still, he had no right to drag Adam down to his death here with him.

“I want you to survive as long as possible,” Adam ordered.

As punishment? Michael wondered. He had had no idea the Gold was so sadistic.

“There has to be a cure. I’ll find it. I promise.”

 _Oh_. “A pre-med prodigy?” Michael asked. “Adam, please don’t promise this. You can’t.”

“I will,” Adam said, his voice cracking. “I have to.”

“You can’t, and I won’t allow it,” Michael said firmly. “If you go back, you have to forget about me. Go live your life.”

Adam shook his head. “This isn’t fair.”

Michael bent over him, and kissed him. “This is the hand I was dealt. But God was kinder to you. You have a life full of opportunity.”

“Built on the backs of murdered aliens,” Adam muttered.

Michael kissed him again, a little more pointedly. “Maybe you can do something about it. Do you think my kind is the only one that has suffered under your people’s rule?”

Adam frowned. “I don’t really know. Politics isn’t really my thing.”

“You don’t have to be a politician,” Michael said gently. “Be a healer.”

He locked his lips with Adam, not letting any more words of despair out of the boy’s mouth. Adam finally relaxed as Michael took him, wholly and fully, on the ground of the recovering Earth.

***

He flew to a space station a few thousand light years from Aura Aurellius. He found a shitty hotel to stay at, and dialled Michael’s phone through the computer there. It was picked up after about twenty seconds of ringing.

“Hello?” a scratchy, muffled voice said through the static. “Who is this?”

“Adam. Who am I speaking to?”

“Adam Winchester?” it said sharply.

“Adam Milligan. Who am I speaking to?”

“Charles Shurley. What have you done with Michael?”

Adam sighed, pulling his feet up into the chair. “I haven’t done anything -”

“Bullshit. I’ve been in contact with your family. You vanished the same night he did.”

“Because I helped him run away. He infected thousands of people with Z-virus. He couldn’t stay. But I’m not with him anymore.”

“Really. And why are you calling his phone?”

“I was hoping to reach you. Or the legendary virologist, Dr Michael Shurley.”

“Why?” Shurley didn’t sound like he was gonna be too cooperative.

“I need his data. From when he studied Michael, back when he first came back with the virus. You have it, right?”

“Tell me where Michael is. Then I will give you the data,” Shurley replied.

“That’s not happening.”

“Then no deal.”

“Michael is going to die from Z-virus. You can’t think he was going to be happy suffering from it forever. He’s not going to take any more booster shots. We need a  _ cure _ . I need that data.”

“I was doing a fine job of looking after him until you came along,” Shurley said coldly.

“ _ Were  _ you? Cause I’m pretty sure he’d been suffering an unnoticed episode for  _ months  _ before I came along.”

The Lord was silent for a few seconds before responding, “Regardless, I am the one best suited to care for Michael. It is my job, not yours.”

“Is  _ that  _ what this is about?” Adam asked in disbelief, his stomach dropping. “You wanting to care for Michael? So you can pretend you’re a good dad who didn’t lose track of his own son for a couple of centuries?”

There was nothing but static on the other end.

“The virus is killing Michael, over and over again, and you don’t care because it keeps him dependent on you? Jesus, have you even been  _ trying  _ to develop a cure? Michael can’t live like this!” 

There was some kind of kerfuffle on the other side, and then a higher-pitched feminine voice was speaking over the line. “We’ve traced this call to Zerefelon Delta. Is that right?”

_ Fuck  _ \- he was going to have to find somewhere else to hide - 

“I’ll collect what we have on Z-virus and one of our people will deliver it to you,” the woman continued. “I can’t imagine there’s a cure if Michael was unable to find one, though.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s okay to give up,” Adam said, heart beating fast. This could be a trap. They could be coming to kill him.

But what if it wasn’t?

“I agree,” the woman said. “We haven’t met, I believe, but it’s Raphael Shurley. Thank you for trying to help my brother-in-law.”

***

Adam nervously sat at the station food court, looking around for whoever was coming to meet him, but it was just the usual crowd of dead-end spacers and station workers.

This was bad, maybe they were fucking with him, maybe they were arranging for his arrest, he didn’t know. He buried his head in his arms until a curt voice from above said, “Lord Milligan?”

He glanced up; a Purple with iron-grey hair tightly pulled back in a bun was frowning down at him. She was holding a big binder and what looked like a medical kit.

“Lady Shurley sends her regards, and an apology to Commander Cross,” the woman said sternly, and marched off before Adam could even think to thank her. He grabbed at the things she had left on the table. 

He flipped eagerly through the binder; it had  _ so much  _ on Michael’s symptoms, how it travelled through the body and duplicated, how it would spread to others, the rate of decay, the response of his immune system. He glanced through the vaccination development, study and finalisation; the next section was on the booster shot, which was designed to target the virus in an already infected patient. Adam glanced at the medical kit - maybe that was in there, what else would it be?

That wasn’t the end of the binder, though. Adam read through the final section in disbelief, horror and  _ disgust _ ; and took notes on the formulae the doctor had devised into his phone for safekeeping. 

Lady Raphael had left a post-it note on the final page. “Please let Michael know I’m so sorry,” she wrote in a flowery script. “We didn’t know they were keeping a cure from him.”

Adam struggled to open the container with shaking hands. The components were separate; the medication was too volatile to be prepared any sooner than immediately before administration.

Adam didn’t spring into action, as much as he wanted to. This could all be a hoax, and they were just planning to track him to Michael’s location. Instead he quietly went to his room and spent the next couple of nights combing through the contents of the binder.

He was only a sophomore, but the formula for the cure  _ looked  _ right. And the sooner he could fix Michael, the better.

He decided to return to Earth.

***

Landing on the surface of a planet was a bit trickier than pulling into a dock. Adam made sure to descend  _ very slowly  _ as he approached the surface of the Earth. They kinda needed the ship, after all.

He had spotted Michael sitting next to the lake during his descent, but when he emerged from the ship his boyfriend was strolling towards him, looking only slightly worse for wear.

“You changed your mind?” Michael said, looking distinctly unhappy about it.

“No,” Adam said. “I have something that  _ might  _ work. We’re going to test it out.”

“Already?” Michael said, eyebrows shooting up. “My goodness, you  _ are  _ a prodigy.”

“I’m not the prodigy,” Adam muttered, and Michael tilted his head in confusion. Adam had no desire to elaborate on the fact that Z-virus could have been completely eliminated when they were still examining  _ patient zero _ .

Michael sat down willingly enough for him as Adam inexpertly combined the components and got the mixture into the syringe. “You’re not scared of needles, are you?”

“No,” Michael said. “I am a little scared of Adams, though.”

“No you’re not,” Adam said, pushing the needle into his vein. “Wow, you didn’t even flinch.”

“I’m a big boy,” Michael said proudly.

Adam grinned, but it was empty, hiding his anxiety.

“Okay,” he said, “We need to give this to you twice a day, for the next five days.”

“Do you have enough?”

“Yeah, I have plenty,” Adam assured him.

“And how will you know if it’s working?”

“Uhh,” Adam said. It was a good point. He didn’t have  _ anything  _ to test or scan Michael with. “We’ll just have to hope.”

“After the five days, you should leave the planet and return after a few months, to see if I am suffering from a resurgence of Z-virus,” Michael suggested firmly.

“No,” Adam said, equally firmly. “We’ll give you this medicine, then we’ll find a medical facility somewhere that will let me test you.”

“Do you even know what tests to perform?”

“Yeah, I do.” Dr Shurley had been as thorough as he was murderous. The binder had everything.

Michael frowned up at him. “You’re being very mysterious. Are you planning to tell me how you gained omniscience?”

Adam shook his head. “I’ll tell you when we know if it’s worked or not. Please don’t ask.”

“Okay, rich boy,” Michael said, and despite everything, he sounded amused.

***

There were all kinds of dodgy facilities out at the edges of Alliance space, and after meeting with a few shady individuals Adam was pointed in the direction of a medical lab that would let him rent it out for cash, no questions asked. His account had been frozen, but he still had enough physical cash left over from when he bought the ship to rent the lab out for a day, which is all he needed.

Adam pored over the results for hours. Giving Michael a false negative would be  _ disastrous _ , not only for Michael’s health but for those he could unintentionally infect. But he couldn’t find a single trace of the virus in any of the tests he performed.

“Well?” Michael asked, as Adam nervously came up to him. He was lying casually on the bed, hands behind his head. “Is it a boy? Or a girl?”

“It’s nothing,” Adam said shakily. “It’s gone.”

“That seems unlikely. We need to be very careful,” Michael said, mildly. 

“I know,” Adam whispered. Their death count was already far too high.

“Are you going to explain where you found your so-called ‘cure’ yet?” Michael asked.

Adam didn’t want to, but he  _ did  _ promise. “I called your dad and asked for the data your half-brother collected on the virus when he was studying you. Your sister took over and sent it, along with the ingredients for the cure. He’d already invented it.”

“Michael did? When?”

Adam didn’t respond, and Michael’s expression tightened. “I see.”

“Your sister said she didn’t know. I think she was telling the truth.” 

“Lady Shurley? Which one?”

“Um, Raphael.”

“Hmm,” Michael said. “But Lord Shurley knew?”

Adam winced. “I think so. I don’t think he really had your best interests in mind.”

“I know,” Michael said, and pulled Adam onto the bed. “Why are you acting so guilty? It’s not your fault my family is comprised of scumbags.”

“I don’t know,” Adam said. “I can’t help it.” He perched over Michael, inspecting his face. “I thought you’d be angrier,” he said at length.

“Oh, I was. I even fashioned an axe just to chop a few trees down, show them the extent of my wrath,” Michael said candidly.

“Huh? On - on Earth?”

“Yes. You didn’t hide that binder very well,” Michael said, and gave him a peck on the cheek.

“You -” Adam said, feeling blood quickly rise to his cheeks. Now  _ he  _ was mad. He pinned Michael to the bed, angrily looking for the medical restraints.

“What are you doing?” Michael asked lazily, barely lifting his head as Adam strapped the restraints over his wrists and ankles.

“You’re still my patient for the next,” he checked the clock, “Five and a half hours. Don’t want you to get distressed and hurt yourself, do I?”

“I’m slightly distressed at the moment, I confess, doctor,” Michael said. Adam finished the last strap and bent over Michael again with a smile.

“I might have a cure for that.”

**

They had to get new ID cards and new identities along with them; Adam’s gold tattoos were carefully inked over with green; Michael’s grey with yellow. The lowest ranks would attract the least attention. Adam wasn’t willing to forgo his matrilineal purple flowers, though. Michael forgave him for this. They were very beautiful.

Adam had never worked a job in his life; Michael’s experience was in soldiering and accounting, only one of which was really useful out in the fringes of society. He worked thug jobs the like of which he hadn’t done in centuries, saving up enough money for he and Adam to get a smuggling-ready ship. The boy could fly a ship alright, at least. He needed a  _ lot  _ of pointers, but Michael didn’t mind. He preferred to man the ship’s weaponry, fighting off any would-be attackers, area police or pirates looking to raid their goods.

And of course, they fucked. They were contractors now, with very little oversight. Michael relished his newfound freedom.

They kept a close ear to Aurellian news. Adam and Michael  _ had  _ been linked to the wave of deaths, not by the Shurleys but by Adam’s Gold family, the Winchesters, trying to undermine the President’s authority. The media ate the drama up, but the Shurleys’ grip on the media was absolute. Somehow, they turned it around to the Winchesters creating some kind of conspiracy in order to punish their youngest son for daring to fall in love with one of the only surviving Greys.

“What happened to the victims of the Recurrence was tragic,” Lord Shurley declared at the press conference. “But to try and pin it on my accountant, an elderly veteran who has served this Alliance for centuries; and their own son, a boy who has not yet reached the age of thirty, is absolutely ludicrous: they are both vaccinated against it on a quarterly basis, as is the Gold standard. But of course, the Winchester family has always been happy to jump to conclusions regarding their lessers, haven’t they?”

The media and the people ate it up. The drama, the inter-family conflict was what they wanted, and the deaths of thousands were soon forgotten.

It made Michael sick. Adam fared worse though. He had always been unwanted by his Gold family; but now if he were to return to Aura Aurellius it was likely they would actively hunt for his head. 

“I want to see Mom,” he would whisper to Michael, as they lay in the darkened ship together during their quiet hours, the hum of the drifting ship gently vibrating through them.

“I know,” Michael said. He would comfort Adam with a hand through his hair, and maybe another one lower down, but the real solution was always in the back of his mind.

After all, the people who were keeping Adam away from her were the same as the ones who had ordered the devastation of Michael’s home and people.

“Patience,” he would murmur to Adam during the boy’s darkest moments. But it was also to himself.

He had full control of his mind once more. He had no excuse for doing an  _ imperfect  _ job.

Michael was a soldier, after all. He knew how to kill.

And more importantly, he was an accountant. It was time to collect on an old debt.


End file.
